#frostwing meadery

[asmund-scion-of-ice]

Late night shoutout to the old MtG RP community on here. I don't have the time or energy to RP anymore but not a day goes by that I don't think about you all. Your characters and worlds and dedication were and are truly amazing. I've seen you all go great places since then! You all are awesome!

#it's been 5 years #i definitely fucked up a bunch of the RP at the very end #so sorry about that #but you're all awesome #i still look at art and posts #and even if we all just reblog random stuff #i stil smile seeing it #so thanks for being cool #and for putting up with my bad RP etiquette #frostwing meadery #asmund speaks #asmund frostwing

[thetalesofthereneverwood]

The Bardic Man

Theren sits at the edge of the ivory keyboard. He looks out to see the crowd that gathered in Asmund’s that night. As he clears his throat, he began.

“Salutations my friends. Please enjoy this song parody of the Terran song “Piano Man.” It is one of the first times I’ve parodied a song, so I hope you enjoy”

“It's nine o'clock on a Saturday

The Ravnican crowd shuffles in

There's old ‘walker sitting next to me

Coolin’ drink with a frost covered grin

He says, "bard, can you play us a melody

One to get the patrons a glow

Keep it happy and sweet and With a good beat

To keep the patrons coming in droves"

La la la, di da da

La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song, you're the bardic man

Sing us a song tonight

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody

And you've got us feelin' so bright

Now Asmund at the bar is a friend of mine

Though my drinks are not always free

And he's wiser than most, cause he’s lived though most

So he gives out advice for no fee

He says, "Theren, You’re needing to learn more"

As I came with a bright flustered face

"Don’t try so hard when you go for the wojek girl, and maybe she’ll hear your case"

Oh, la la la, di da da

La la, di da da da dum

Now Maris is a kind hearted Wojek

Who did find time for a wife

And he's talkin' with Alek, who gave him a panic

And probably will all his life

And Celes is dancing with bright orbed lights

As the planeswalkers drink in a row

Yes, they're sharing a drink to fight loneliness

Cause it's better than drinkin' alone

Sing us a song, you're the bardic man

Sing us a song tonight

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody

And you've got us feelin' so bright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday

And Asmund gives me a smile

'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see

To forget about life for a while

And the piano, it sounds like a carnival

And the room is filled with good cheer

And they sit at the bar and and don’t look too far

And say, "Man, thank you for being here"

Oh, la la la, di da da

La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song, you're the bardic man

Sing us a song tonight

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody

And you've got us feelin' so bright”

#Theren #theren everwood #ravnica #Frostwing Meadery #asmund #mtg fanwalker #fanwalker

[zarra-kel]

Zarra Kel was prepared for a long day of exploration. Ravnica was proving to be a very large city, and if how some of its residents spoke about it was true, a city so large it spanned the entire world. To one used to traveling the oceans and jungles of Zendikar in their youth, and the drownyards and mountains of Innistrad now, Ravnica seemed an impossibly confusing city that was difficult to navigate.

Zarra Kel had been prepared for a long day of exploration, but now their feet grew tired and they longed for a drink and possibly a warm meal. They saw a large marble building in the distance marked “Frostwing Meadery”, and Zarra supposed that was as good a place as any to get a drink. Wandering in, they were surprised by the pleasant temperature, a nice chill reminiscent of the waters just below the surface of oceans near Ondu. 

They checked their satchel to ensure they had the native currency—zinos, Zarra was pretty sure—and nodded to themself to gather confidence. Spending money on a new plane was always a little nerve wracking, but the host they began walking towards seemed nice, if imposing.

@asmund-scion-of-ice

#long for the sake of exposition #ravnica #frostwing meadery #active rp #asmund scion of ice

[commander-petra]

Petra took a short break from her open door day in the late afternoon to investigate this Frostwing Meadery. She had heard of this Asmund several times before, but knew very little of him.

“Salutations, I’m looking for an Asmund?” she called out as she entered the building.

( @asmund-scion-of-ice )

#you said whenever so i thought id send her before i forgot ^^ #no rush on replying tho

[halonathewildone]

@asmund-scion-of-ice

The hatchling dragon, Zirilit, had dropped the name Asmund during his and Halona’s conversation. It had taken her a little over a week to track down the name to the Frostwing Meadery, despite it only being a few blocks away from the Boros Legion. Enter through the smaller set of doors, she found hall warmer only cause it shielded her from the winter winds. She took a meandering route towards the bar, spinning every few paces just to catch another look at the meadery’s wonderful decor.

Nearing the bar, Halona skipped the last few steps by leaping into the stool. She didn’t order immediately, rather taking a moment to have good look at the bar’s selection.

[celesazura-blog]

@TheSeeker-OfTruth)) Walking through the streets, the young mind mage was resting at this small town, before moving on to her main mission here. She was fortunate that this town did have a bit of entertainment to it. Isobel made her way to the performer's square and noticed a familiar looking dancer.../Is that?/ she thought to herself.

The peculiar thing about dancing was; Did Celes do it to be seen, or did he do it to feel good? Maybe a weird combination of the two. Either way, it made him happy, and he amused the crowd while he was at it. It was a win-win. After a loud and satisfying applause, he bowed and let go of the pressure of performing. Between the crowd, he spotted someone familiar. It was the.. probably Innistradi girl he saw in the Frostwing meadery. He happily waved, walking towards her. 

[isolde-solstice]

Isolde poked her head into the Frostwing.

“Asmund? Art thou about?” She called out, looking around the meadery.

( @asmund-scion-of-ice )

[ormos-demon-born]

"Hey.. wait, I saw you before! In the Frostwing Meadery, right?"

“Oh yeah, you were the dancing kid, right?”

[gardianforce]

I found something when I was taking out the trash at frostwing meadery and would like some backup to investigate further

Sure. Why not. I'll help.

[kavi-forgemaster]

*There is a knock at your door, a man with long graying hair is standing their holding the notice you put in Frostwing Meadery, he also has two swords on his back.* "Hello there, I heard that you needed someone to help you find some moonsilver? The name is Zerriko by the way"

The Kor Smith stopped mid swing as the man knocked, setting her hammer down and taking the thick Felidar hide gloves she wore off and looking over him slowly. “And you think you can help?”

[bobstropajo]

*Alek leads @ral-zarek-petty-guildmage to the Frostwing Meadery (@asmund-scion-of-ice). He makes Ral seat in one of the tables, away from anyone who's there, then goes to the bar*

Hello Asmund, would you give me a couple of ciders, please? I've got a... Friend... Over. Would you be kind enough and take a look over our table every now and then please?

[asmund-scion-of-ice]

Rage

Icy blue turned purple as a furious shade of crimson overtook his vision. The ground quaked and the walls shook; icicles fell from the ceiling and glasses shattered. Sourceless whispers echoed darkly within the confines of his throbbing skull. Thieves! Burglars! his mind roared with anger and confusion. The world is yours and they took it from you! the voices whispered, tantalizing hate dripping with malicious pity. Rage against them! Freeze the plane solid! Take back what is yours! 

Asmund had been filled only with rage. No hunger, no thirst, no weariness: only all-consuming anger. The foolish bard had been launched from Frostwing Meadery as the dragon raised a massive, glacial wall about his establishment. Buildings had collapsed about his icy fortress, and none had dared come close to Frostwing Meadery since. Much time had passed, though the dragon could not tell. He writhed in ecstatic wrath, the interior of his meadery well destroyed. Days, weeks, months: Asmund could not tell. The voice within only spoke of Jarguund and Ravnica, how his artifacts, his people, his worlds, had been stolen. A dark thread of magic had woven a tapestry of despair, of envy; it spoke of his daughter’s death, his failings as a father and a leader, and how he could take it all back.

Of course he listened. Asmund was relatively young for a dragon, and his emotions still were strong, unhoned bludgeons beating at his hearts. Reason had been overcome over the course of many months, and Asmund had taken the other’s quiet counsel. The imagined betrayal of Ivaria, the willing release of the original Astral Cornucopia to Theren, the warnings from the Boros, all added to the other’s whispers, sowing the seeds of doubt and anger. Asmund’s fears, envy, maliciousness, all blend together under the unending whispers. 

The wish for them to stop. The hope the other had brought to him, of rule, of wealth and power. Conflicting thoughts and worries crisscrossed his mind, until that damned bard appeared. The tapestry of the other’s story became apparent, and the apparent work became reality. Thieves! Burglars! What more will you let them take? 

Inside the meadery, Asmund rolled as his violet eyes rolled back. Tables crushed, wood sent flying, glasses crushed. The dragon had not been himself for a long while, but any of his friends would see how fall the Baron had fallen. Asmund was a shadow of his former self: gray-scaled, gaunt, covered in rime, mindlessly bellowing. Frozen pools of blood covered the meadery; in his rage, he had planeswalked across the multiverse, killing randomly, without thought or vision of what he was doing. Carcasses of man and beast littered the floor, uneaten, rent and crushed beneath the raging dragon.

When would the spell be lifted? A small part of Asmund’s mind feared, a tiny hatchling crying out in the murky waters of his consciousness; this tiny piece kept him from ravaging Ravnica or Jarguund, doing its best to contain him. Yet he mostly did not think at all, and only raged.

#i'm so sorry i've been away so long #i hope this makes up for it #rp #magic the gathering #asmund speaks #asmund #asmund frostwing #frostwing meadery #mt #magic: the gathering #magic #roleplay #ravnica #jarguund #rage #i miss roleplaying but my life has been so busy #i barely have time to even look at tumblr and reblog nowadays

[thetalesofthereneverwood]

This lovely commission of Theren was done by @zhjake! They do wonderful work and they caught Theren in front of a particular ice dragon’s Meadery. Thank you to @zhjake for the wonderful commission! I hope you all visit his Tumblr and also visit @asmund-scion-of-ice’s Meadery!

#awesome art #fanwalker #theren #theren everwood #Frostwing Meadery #ravnica

[wolfknight-of-innistrad]

the frostwing meadery has good drinks though i cannot taste anything

I am sorry to hear that you lack the ability to taste things. I thank you for the recommendation.

[icibreal-blog]

The angel is injured.

I don’t know how it happened, I was letting my mind drift among the energies of the eternities, the scion’s free to live their lives as social pet dragons. Then there was a distress call. The created being with an ancient ones spark is injured, a bandage on her head. She makes her way to a house, the scion following curiously. He tries to follow her in, but the door closes too quickly even for one as spry as it is. It trills quietly, a sound many have found adorable enough to allow them entrance into an abode, but there is no response from the outside. Dejected, it sits in what appears to be a flower pot and waits patiently. 

Not wanting to miss anything else, I turn my attention to the other scions, hungry for whatever information they can supply me.

The warrior is....bored? He is aimless and unmotivated in his tasks, and seems to be lethargic in his accomplishments today. The scion assigned to watch him lazes about, not even attempting to hide its presence. It lays, sprawled on it’s stomach, occasionally moving to ensure it receives the best sunlight, it’s attention barely focused on the warrior.  I watch the world through it’s eyes for a few brief moments, before moving on, no new information to be had here.

The Leader is...working. I don’t know why I expected anything different here. Surveillance will continue just in case.

The werewolf is much more peaceful than I anticipated. He does seem to be leading a loving, caring life with his partner (partners? I don’t fully understand the domestic relationship of hominids, but there appears to be more than one of them). I briefly consider stopping surveillance on him, but change my mind, as my knowledge of werewolves says he will become more interesting shortly. The wild can never be tamed, merely directed.

The scions have discovered another ancient one residing here, and I again find myself baffled. Their numbers swell, my survival instincts yell at me to flee, but I want to know more. I send scions in to investigate, they come upon a location known as “Frostwing Meadery”. As a traveler moves into the store, a scions slips in and relays its findings.

The bar is meticulously clean, and surprisingly chilly. A rough estimate puts the temperate at about 30 degrees Fahrenheit, the scion immediately becomes drowsy from its temperature dropping. I have to take quick action to reinforce it with mana, knowing that otherwise that tool would be lost to me as it would succumb to the cold. 

After reinforcing the scion, it looked up to make a startling discovery. There was not one ancient one in the building, but two. The bar keep, a magnificient dragon, and the newcomer both shone with the incandescent light that marked them in my eyes.

A dragon. Absolutely beautiful blue eyes, and scales that shone endearingly in the light. My first instinct was to make my presence known, to attempt to communicate with this cousin of mine. I fought back instinct, and simply gazed longingly at the ancient one, millennia of survival instincts warring with the desire to simply converse and be at ease.

The scion moves out of the doorway and into a more shadowy alcove where he could keep an eye on the ancient ones. A near inaudible trill escapes it as it relaxes into the comfort of another dragon nearby. I have to take solace in the joy the scion can take from the moment, because I fear that I myself will not be able to. 

Shaking my head to clear my melancholy, I count off the number of ancient ones I’ve seen thus far, and set scions to watch them all.

The werewolf, a family man.

The leader, bound by duty.

The warrior, disturbed by restlessness.

The angel, injured by cared for.

The traveler, nervous but trying to fit in.

The dragon. No title as of yet, as words currently don’t do justice.

#I really just feel like typing #So these things don't really have any importance #Feel free to respond if you want #I just like doing this.

[maris-solstice]

Hey, what is your favorite drink from Frostwing Meadery? Don't ask why, I just need to know.

Well, I’ve always been a fan of ciders.