#ithren

[lichfucker]

"ithren is coming at personhood from the opposite end of biting"

#ithren #rowan #bluh bluh

[keplercryptids]

[image description copied from alt text: a digital drawing of a character from my d&d game, Ithren (they/any?), drawn from the neck up. Ithren's face is divided down the middle with a red line. half their face is drow in appearance, with dark purple skin, a large pointed ear, white freckles, and chin-length white hair in braids. the other half is sea elf in appearance with bluish-green skin, shoulder-length hair resembling water, and an ear that folds over like a cresting wave. Ithren is looking upwards with a neutral expression. three moons are reflected in their eyes. End ID.]

i love this little freak

#jd arts #jd&d #ithren #reforged campaign #dnd art

[quasieli]

[ID copied from alt text: A digital drawing of Ithren (they/them) and Ingot (he/they), PCs from my D&D campaign, set against a black background. On the background, in white, there is a jagged line extending from Ingot, appearing as though Ingot is firing the line from his bow, and extending across the image, through Ithren's neck. At the center of the jagged line is the word "Talk" in large capital letters and underlined three times. Ithren, on the left, is a blue Sea Elf with short shaggy green hair and pale gray eyes. They are wearing very tattered clothing. Ithren is viewed in side profile, looking at Ingot with a blank expression on their face. Ingot, on the right, is a gray tiefling with long dark blue hair, orange eyes, and a set of bat-like wings. They are wearing a white dress shirt and maroon pants. He is in three quarters profile, his white wooden longbow drawn and aimed threateningly at Ithren. Ingot's mouth hangs open as if speaking the word at the center of the image. End description.]

Gotta love some good old PC on PC violence 🥰

#Eli's Art #SICL #Ithren #Ingot #Ithren is here to cause problems #not sure if it's on purpose or not yet lmao

[artemissoteira]

i’m not done thinking about kempa the safe one choosing it either but that. is a post for inside my brain

#unhinging my jaw and swallowing the post whole before it can come out #ingot is still ithren's favorite atm with what they know but god kempa. kempa #ithren #reforged campaign

[vounoura]

> [Level Sceleritas.]

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #BG3edit #bg3 spoilers #Sceleritas Fel #spoilers #major spoilers #ask to tag #ok not to release more slayer gifs so soon but consider. #this scene is my absolute favourite I love seeing this goblin man get absolutely fucking bodied #I need durge to do this to my back #oc: ithren artalas

[shadows-of-almsivi]

For the writing prompt list: 18 & 15

18: Autumnal

The old ostler put out a notice for a horse trainer, when the Rorikstead crops were coming into their height. A small room for my boarding built into the stable, a meal and ten septims a day were, apparently, enough to buy me, to my own surprise. Still, it is only until the ostler’s son returns from some wedding or other, and I’d grown tired of sleeping on stony ground.

It’s been rather a delight for me here, truth be told, though the pay is poor and the work leaves my body numb with exhaustion. Horses are a fondness of mine, and even the meanest and foulest-tempered of the beasts passing through the ostler’s yards can kindle a little tenderness from me. I’m tasked to breathe a little spirit back into these worn-out old carriage drafts, to take wild-eyed Reach ponies and make them fit for the smallest child’s first saddle, and by and large I do succeed by some measure. Having no friends here to speak to nor inclination to find any, I spend all of my time with the horses, and the training goes all the swifter for the closer attention. The ostler seems pleased with my progress, as am I.

Is this what it would have been like, to have held more conventional employment?

The mare I’m working today is a lively young Chorrol Red, near leaping out of her skin with excitement to be out of her stall. I can feel, in the shiver of her flank against my calves, how badly she wants to canter headlong into the open field, kicking free the stiffness of those long and boring days in the stable. Her previous master ought to be ashamed, to have let such a high-natured beast molder away indoors before trading her to us.

Her hooves churn the dirt as she dances anxiously in place. The brass bells about her bridle and breastplate, the training-tack for horses prone to flight or nerves, chime at every restless step. I hold her reins just firm enough to let her feel me; I prefer the more subtle touch of directing from the knee, but she’s liable to bolt without the extra guidance. Her breed is known more for racing and courier work than for level-headedness, more spirit than sense perhaps. She sees open grass before her and nothing else, and I’d best not let her have her head or else she’s likely to throw me at once, or snap a slender leg on some hidden stone outcrop.

But still, how beautiful she is, how uncommonly fine for this place. That rich chestnut coat shines so lovely in the pale sun, bright as a new-minted copper flashing between a street-magician’s knuckles. Her restlessness is infectious; I find myself, too, looking over those rolling plains with sudden, aching longing. There’s a crispness to the morning air that would feel wonderful raking through my hair, a sluggishness to my blood from my days here that I can’t wait to shake loose. Honest labor has its sweetness, but precious little thrill has stirred me since taking up the old ostler’s offer.

Perhaps a sprint down the road to the bridge would let us both focus a little better…

15: Soup.

I’d had such hope for a good fish soup for tonight. I should know better than to think of cooking before the catch, it’s bad luck to fish with a certain recipe in mind. My nets came up in empty tatters, gnawed through and picked clean. I’d thought slaughterfish, of course, until I heard those bellowing, ugly barks from a ways past the shoreline. I was surprised to see one in a lake; Skyrim’s fauna continues to astound me the longer I stay here.

But, regardless, curiosity does not fill the stewpot. No fish soup tonight, but my recipes adapt.

Tonight, then, it is seal.

I have heard horker is best treated like pork, and a seal shouldn’t be much different, I imagine. With this in mind, I selected a shoulder, diced middling-sized, and one fin to enrich the broth. The skin I set aside; its fur carries lovely marbled markings, and should be a fair trade for a new net at the tradehouse.

The raw meat was a deep red, less like an apple and more like wine, almost the same as the wine I poured into the hissing iron pot to steam and spit. Some cabbage I added next, some garlic, a little mora tapinella from the morning’s walk. Finally, a couple of bees, finely ground, just for alchemical safety-- I don’t believe the mushrooms’ poison to survive a long cooking, but you can never be too careful.

Now, the house smells quite delightful, and I can put my feet up for a while. The soup will want a few hours over a gentle fire, and I have some reading to catch up on.

#anonymous #asks #askmemes #Moraelyn “Horse Girl but Transmasc Edition” Ithren #Moraelyn has been forcibly thrust into Cozy Pleasant Times whether he likes it or not #I can't help imagining Morry writing one of those unbearable 'please get to the point already' cooking blogs #where every recipe is preceded by like 3k words of rambling #but I've butchered carcasses before I know how exhausted he is rn #let him read his trashy romance novels by the fire #I'm hungry now

[army-of-bee-assassins]

i keep thinking about last night's reforged. think i'm ready to chew glass

#we're playing in a week it's a normal gap between sessions but that's too long i'm gonna die #ithren my friend what the fuck is going on!!!!!!!! #next session whitlock is gonna shake iniko and ithren like piggy banks until secrets start falling out #i don't think they'll murder us for it i mean we're important and will be relevant in the future whatever the fuck that means aaaaaaa #reforged

[quickchangeartist]

Get To Know Me Better

Tagged by @plavigmaz in the ‘9 people you’d like to get to know better’ game, all sneaky-like.

1. Top 3 ships: Moraelyn Ithren/Lleryn Serathis, #1 in my heart. Blitzo/Stolas probably, and... Uhh... Cosmo and Nation McKinley from Shock Treatment?

2. First ship: Probably something like Lestat/Louis from the Anne Rice books? That seems on-brand for Baby Dan.

3. Last song: Rumours About Angels by Diary Of Dreams

4. Last movie: The Woods (2006), not the best Lucky McKee's ever made but not bad either. Good use of Bruce Campbell.

5. Currently reading: Each Day a Small Victory by Chips Hardy, a nice novel break from all my non-fiction texts and manuals.

6. Currently watching: A Narrative Critique Of Dawnguard by Duke of Whales

7. Currently consuming: Pepsi Max with some lemon juice, I like it zingy.

8. Currently craving: Roast pork banh mi with the bits of crackling in that my local bakery makes, I always crave them the most at 1am when they're closed.

Tagging: @pink-reindeer (if you're still around here) @mckittericks @dunmeriis @spectral-cervid @poro-oletettu @ichijoukenichiro @goreki-quadracorn @h3cck @chameleonspell

[erandir]

WIP Wednesday

I’m pretty happy with how most of the re-write of Semper ad Meliora - now titled The Potential of the Storm - is going and I wanna share some of it. Because screaming at people about my WIPs is the best way to keep me motivated.

So here’s what is potentially the opening scene. (I keep going back and forth between opening with Adrian or Ithren.)

-----

“Adrian, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, father,” Adrian answered, although truth be told he had stopped listening some time ago. His father wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t already heard a hundred times. “You’re tired of me embarrassing the family with my antics and I had better learn to behave myself.”

Although Adrian had his eyes closed as he lounged across the carriage’s bench seat, he heard his father’s sigh and could clearly picture the way his lips pursed and brows furrowed. His usual expression whenever Adrian had to see him these days. “This will be your fourth school in as many years,” his father reminded, as though Adrian had forgotten. “I was understanding of your first expulsion - it was foolish of me to expect you were mature enough to be placed with older students simply because you were at their level academically - but now I am afraid it may be becoming a habit.”

“I still contend that the Head Enchanter was overreacting,” Adrian replied. “That is beside the point,” his father snapped. “The Pallas house has held a respected position in this country for generations. You are sixteen now and I expect you to behave in a manner befitting that stature.”

“And not bring further shame to the Pallas name,” Adrian recited by rote. “Yes, yes, father. I understand.”

“Do you?”

Adrian did not dignify that with a response. If his father wanted his good behavior, perhaps he should send Adrian to a school that wasn’t full of complete idiots. He would respect his instructors when they did something to deserve it. And he would respect his peers, well, probably never. But he would leave them alone when they accepted that he was better than them. He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

“We’re here,” his father announced.

Adrian opened his eyes just in time to watch through the window as their carriage passed through a high iron gate. He swung his feet down from the carriage bench and sat up. A moment later the carriage pulled to a stop and the door swung open.

“Come,” his father snapped, before sliding out of the carriage in a whirl of coattails.

Adrian sighed one final sigh. He considered the option of simply staying in the carriage, but dismissed it almost immediately. That would just lead to another lecture and more disappointed scowling. So he smoothed down the front of his coat and climbed out. The door shut behind him and he was vaguely aware of the footman going to retrieve his luggage.

The carriage had stopped in a walled courtyard paved in dark flagstone. The high stone facade of the Tenebrium College of Enchanters loomed dark against the mid-afternoon sky. Like every other college he’d been to - and like so many other buildings in the Imperium - it was centuries-old. Heavy granite stones carved with filigree, its wide arched doorway flanked by statues of the prophet Haleon, hands raised in praise - or perhaps in spellcasting.

Descending the steps from that doorway was an older man in long, traditional mage’s robes. “Magister Pallas,” he greeted as he approached, stopping a few paces short of Adrian’s father to give a shallow bow. “It is an honor to meet you. I am First Enchanter Redanius.”

Adrian’s father returned the greeting with a nod. “A pleasure. Thank you for so generously agreeing to allow Adrian entry this late in the term.”

“Of course,” the First Enchanter assured. “The Tenebrium College of Enchanters has a long history of training our nation’s greatest talents. I’m sure we’ll be able to provide a more suitable environment for your son’s education.”

“Let us pray you are correct,” his father replied. Then he turned pointedly toward Adrian, “I grow weary of your constant insolence. You squander every opportunity I have given you, and I will not call in any more favors on your behalf. This is your last opportunity, Adrian. Learn to behave yourself, or this time there will be consequences.”

And that was it. No goodbye, no well wishes, just more of that ever-present disappointment and a view of his father’s back as he strode back to the carriage.

#my writing #wip wednesday #original fiction #fic: semper ad meliora #fic: potential of the storm

[morvaine]

#skyrim #tes v skyrim #lord of the rings #oc #ithren

[plutoie]

my h/c is that Imraan is very hot and sexy and deserves everything in the world 😔

(yes ur right he does... I love him 💕)

#my hc is that Ithren is very pretty and her muscles are huge #oc: Imraan #ask #vounoura

[lichfucker]

saube: give me one reason I shouldn't throw you in the fucking lava.

ithren: I'm... busy?

#scream #ttrpgs #ithren #saube

[keplercryptids]

admittedly i kind of half-assed the statblocks for the homebrewed guys in last night's combat, but my players enjoyed them so i thought i'd talk about them here!

the set up for the combat is that the PCs were in an ifrit/fire genasi town on the side of a volcano. shadow puppetry is a big thing here and so, while the PCs were watching a shadow puppet play, a mischievous scamp part-time PC started fucking with the magic of the volcano, just to see what would happen. what happened was Bad and the shadow puppets enlarged, sprang to life and began fighting. oops.

i based them loosely (extremely loosely) on the shadow lurkers/stranglers and shadow puppeteer from d&d 4e. but for reasons, i made them more bard-like instead of undead, and gave them more shadow flavor abilities instead of stealth stuff. i called the grunts "shadow warriors." they each got two melee attacks that did psychic damage, and on every hit, the target had to make a charisma saving throw or else be attacked an additional time by their own shadow. any time you can make a player roll to attack themself, you should. it's fun.

the "shadow puppeteer" was bigger, had more hp, and did two melee attacks with psychic damage, and an additional third attack wherein strings shot out of their hands into a target's shadow, triggering a wisdom saving throw. on a fail, the target was dominated by the puppeteer and had to attack their allies on their turn (described as their shadow moving and the PC having no choice but to follow). anytime you can get your players to roll and attack their friends, you should, it's fun.

anyway a good time was had by all and the part-time PC was banished from the town. sorry bud ily.

#reforged campaign #halkifell #jd&d #ithren #homebrew #dm stuff

[quasieli]

"Ithren has an organ that none of the rest of y'all have: the sibling spleen."

#SICL #Ithren #JD #wtf is this session #wtf is Ithren

[artemissoteira]

there’s a world a bit to the left (ok; a lot to the left) that haunts me sometimes where ithren learns what love is just from watching sauhety and zringot and kemplock. and they might still get there (i hope they get there). but what they’re learning from ingot&kempa and saube’s sudden anger and whitlock whitlock my friend whitlock is such a different kind of love. not just friendship, not just safety, not just sacrifice. it’s so messy. as much as ithren claims to understand ingot they are at such a loss with this. how could you teach that love to someone who is, to some fundamental extent, such a casual & direct threat to any and everyone around them? you decide to kill them. how else.

#ingot&kempa deciding to kill ithren is truly going to live in my brain rent free forever #of COURSE they are of course of course #kempa also did clarify to ithren in pasra (in the crosstalk) that by talking about shooting them they absolutely meant killing them #and that did not go unnoticed #the only thing that confuses ithren is that you haven't tried it yet; you keep choosing not to #and then for all that whitlock doesn't want to he's also entertaining doing/allowing it; he has to #you are all so MESSY you are all such PEOPLE #the lengths you'll go to to keep others safe. what a lesson. what love. #ithren #reforged campaign

[vounoura]

ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴄᴇʀᴇᴍᴏɴʏ — ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #bg3edit #Shadowheart #oc: ithren artalas #kicks my feet in the air while giggling