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1 mo ago
Current …were we not insulting poohead before
1 mo ago
Would me telling you that doctors recommend you don’t wash your ass crack with soap be enough of a substitute for Dion because it’s the closest impression I’ve got
1 like
1 mo ago
Also, don’t forget to browse the interest checks yourself. If you’re posting an interest check and not actively looking, consider how many other people are probably doing the same.
2 likes
1 mo ago
@ampersand You can bump your interest check to get it back at the top of the list (just don’t do it excessively, or with more than two checks- see the guidelines pinned at the top).
2 likes
2 mos ago
Magnesium can burn underwater
4 likes

Bio

the writer

  • I was a theatre kid!
  • non fluent polyglot
  • paramedic
  • B horror film lover
  • Dogs are life.


the role player

  • I like most genres.
  • But I really love superheroes, apparently.
  • I'm big on character driven stories and all the twists and turns that come from that.
  • I tend towards darker, grittier stories, or lighter stories with liberal amounts of dark humour. There is little you can do to throw me off.
  • I enjoy writing explicit scenes, but they are not an essential ingredient. I'm here for the story first and foremost.
  • I will try my best to give you what I get in terms of post length.
  • I reuse my characters, settings, and plot points with different people sometimes. You are welcome to do the same.
  • In the words of a GM I admire, your spot at the table's secure. Whenever you're up to participating, grab your seat and jump in. (If I love the story we've been writing I don't care how long ago it was since you last posted- if you're ready to get back into it I'll be waiting!)
  • Check out my 1x1 interest check if you want to see what I'm specifically looking to role play right now. That being said, pitch away if you think I might like it.

Most Recent Posts

Also interested :)
Charynrae had heard of Vaasa and its empty expanse. It almost felt like home to her; just like the Underdark, it was cold and damp and little would grow. Despite all it lacked, the landscape had its own, strange beauty.

There was still a part of her that was wary of Amal. He had not killed her, but that could simply be because it was helpful to travel with someone when traversing the wilderness. And yet she trusted him more than she would have trusted any companion in the Underdark; utility could not always save you down there.

He was just as accustomed to discomfort as she was, it seemed, not that that was much of a surprise considering what she knew about him. What was a surprise was that he almost seemed to want her around. Truth be told, she was glad for it, not that she would admit it. This was possibly the least lonely she had felt in her entire life.

She squinted at the structure in the distance. “I will take your word for it,” she said. Between the light and the distance she was sure to get a headache if she stared at the wall for too long from here; at least the stone was dark, for pale colours were yet another thing her eyes did not quite like.

With the wisps of silver that peeked out from beneath the hood of her makeshift cloak, she might have simply been an old woman (and indeed by human standards she was). As her companion had discovered, she carefully rebraided her hair every morning. It was fortunate that she needed so little sleep, being a Drow, because some days she took quite some time on her work. Never enough to cut into their travel hours, she was careful of that; there was so little daylight as it was, and they needed it for travel.

“No, I will keep myself cloaked,” she murmured, ensuring her hands were tucked away and her face well hidden. “Just because I can survive out there does not mean it is enjoyable. You can do whatever talking is necessary, I presume.”
I would be interested in taking on Milele Monroe if you end up getting this up and running!
Charynrae was precise, as evidenced by the crossbow bolt in the eye of the orc. Precision was key to many things in the Underdark, at least in her eyes. She sauntered over to the freshly dead orc first to retrieve the bolt, wiping any remaining matter off onto the corpse. She frowned down upon it- though she was good at it, she did not particularly enjoy killing. After that, it was over to the crates. She grabbed the dagger first- the more weapons, the better.

"I aimed for my spell to cause an echo. If all goes as it should, we have more time than you think," she said, her stance and movements projecting calm as she stuffed hardtack into her satchel. "Or he could already be frustrated and coming back this way in a rage." She would have heard if the ogre was that incensed by now, though of course, with them it was always a risk. "I suppose we will know soon enough."

Another crate held a variety of root vegetables and small bags of dried herbs. And, curiously, a bag with a small handful of polished stones, which she also took, of course. It could have been mistaken for a bag of herbs at first glance, though its weight gave away that it was not for culinary purposes.

She followed his movements, grabbing the remaining tarp, turning right into the path Amal had cleared for them... and the sunlight. She had adjusted well enough while it was just in the room, but directly in her eyes? She stood frozen, wide-eyed for a moment. The flash of fear was gone from her face as quickly as it came. "I cannot see," she hissed as she started moving tentatively towards the exit. She had some understanding of blindsight fighting, but she was no expert and this was a door she needed to get to, not a brawl.
Charynrae was making a mental map, envisioning the entire room in her mind based off Amal's description and the quick look she had taken. She could handle the unknown, but it was always better to gather information first. "Of course I do. It will be child's play."

Every drow was a warrior; she was a noble, so she also had to be a tactician. Not that this was a situation that required a particularly refined skill set. It was simple: Lure the ogre to the path on the right. Two orcs left. Amal would take whichever was closer, she would take the other.

She crept up to the passageway, locking her eyes on a specific spot in the right tunnel. "Ul'trin", she whispered, and just like that- voices in the tunnel. The ogre stood, club now in his hand.

"Who goes there?"

She had a moment of fear that the ogre had spotted her, but he turned to the tunnel. The voices stopped briefly. And then there they were again, this time, a little frantic, a little farther. (She wanted it to sound like some people trying to escape. Just like them.) The ogre growled, his grip tightening on his club. "Show yourself!" he bellowed as he stomped off into the right tunnel.

She readied her crossbow.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Go.
“Of course. I meant cities that are trade centres,” she said. Humans had a peculiar habit of apologizing when in her situation, even when there was no reason for remorse. Charynrae did not apologize.

She would have offered her cloak had she thought of it earlier. Next time. (Why did she think there would be a next time?) Having lived in a cavern most of her life, and being a drow, she knew the cold would bother her less than her companion. Much less, if his skin was any indication. Humans only became that colour in the sun. He was right, though, that she would need something more substantial if they were to make their escape.

Despite her time aboveground, Charynrae still had much difficulty with the sun. Her eyes narrowed against the daylight, her vision slowly, very slowly adjusting. Fortunately, the things-in-the-room were moving; that was always the first to adjust. She took no more than a quick glance around the corner after discovering the light.

Two orc. One ogre. Correct? she signed to Amal. She could not be entirely sure, but context suggested to her that she was indeed correct. Anywhere to lead them? If she could draw a couple of them off, they might be able to take out the one left behind. She carefully pulled out her crossbow, her movements almost silent. That was supposing someone stayed to watch the door. A distraction would still give them the upper hand.

Ah, the opinions on drow. Charynrae had experienced a variety of opinion in her time above ground. There were the cautious, who would be polite in public but concerned behind closed doors. And the outright fearful, who would freeze, or run, as if she were a predator. The firebrands that were convinced that all Drow were the enemy. The curious (mostly children). The ones who desired drow (sometimes, an incredibly easy way to make money).

The precious few that ignored drow the way they ignored everyone else were a treasure.

She had known of some cities not being open to all, but had not realized the extent. "I assumed that only the important cities were done as such," she said. It was no real surprise. The only real difference between beings above and below the surface were that denizens of the Underdark were honest. No creature of the shadows sincerely pretended to be worthy of trust. Humans, elves, what-have-you on the other hand- they would swear up and down they would never do you harm while plotting how to stab you in the back.

Even though she had seen many since leaving the Underdark, it took a moment for her to picture it: blue sky. Faerie fire could be blue, so it was one of the easier colours to place. Purple and green, too, and she knew yellow well only because it was almost painful to look at in many of its forms. She could spot the faintest difference in shades, but naming the tone of a thing was always a challenge. There was little variation in colour in the dark, and so it was not used as often to describe things, nor did it have to be as precise as it sometimes was on the surface.

She pondered their situation as they walked in silence. She had been walking in the shadows that fell across a wide path in a forested area, near a stream, but not the open water. She, too, remembered a flash; it had blinded her. And then… nothing.

“Are you not cold, Amal?” she asked, glancing back at him. He was incredibly bare for a human in these conditions; perhaps his bulk helped ward off the cold, but usually they all bundled up regardless. Her eyes flitted across the scars on his chest before she turned back to lead the way again. Scars in the Underdark brought mixed feelings to many, a sign that you weren’t fast enough, but you had survived.
She caught the satchel with ease. “I will not be trusting you,” she said as if the idea was preposterous. For a Drow, it was. She wasn’t entirely certain their kind had the capacity for trust at all. “But you are also of no concern to me. I will lead.” She had been following him for far too long, and it was better for the both of them if she went first, since she could actually see. She didn’t need him walking into a pit and making noise that might draw anything in the tunnels near.

She nodded at his gesture, readying an axe and turning to the exit. She could not help but be impressed by the ease with which he had picked up the signs- nor could she understand why she couldn’t let the fact go. “If you require more light at any time, tell me. If conditions permit I can create some.”

She gave him a look at his offer. Humans generally had no interest associating with the Drow outside of a handful of situations. “Hm,” was all she had to say. She was not interested in accepting a drink with him, but it could prove useful, so she couldn’t very well refuse it outright, not at the moment. “Why would the city not let you in?” she asked, sounding taken aback. He had been a thief, she supposed, but it seemed he had enough skill that she imagined he would avoid detection.

As she walked, she walked herself through what had happened. They were in some castle- Castle Perilous, in Vaasa. In Zhengyi’s lair. The goblins served a Master Fel’dregar, who served Master Zhengyi… who Fel’dregar was trying to… use?

“I think we were taken by a necromancer.”

He had been on a galley in the Moonsea, going away from Mulmaster. She was near the coast of the Moonsea heading towards Elmwood.

“What is the last thing you remember doing exactly? Before here, I mean."
He was impressive. Well, she was impressed. There was a reason most Drow only knew a few signs. The human- Amal- managed them with ease, his movements far more fluid than she would have expected after only a short amount of time.

The goblin shut its eyes tightly, flailing uselessly. It shook in fear, a long, high pitched whine emanating from its throat. Its silence so far was perhaps one of the bravest things she had seen from a goblin. It would be for nothing, she was certain; it never took much for these ones to cave.

Iblith, you really should start talking,” Charynrae said, sounding like she was very much enjoying this. “I will like what happens if you choose not to. You will not. My friend is the only reason you have been shown mercy at all. How… do we… get out?”

As expected, he cracked, letting out a squeak. Goblins were never much fun to interrogate, because they were all too easy. “Th- that way,” he said breathlessly, pointing towards the passageway by the fire pit. “First left! And then, then, then-“ he paused to take a breath, only somewhat successfully. “-straight. Until the cross path. Then the one going down!”

“Down? I am not going to the Underdark. How do we get to the surface?”

“You go down-“

“Down. To the surface?”

“Yes, down, I s- s- swear it! Take the third right and it goes back up! And then just straight! Takes you to- takes you to the east exit!”

“And where do we go from the east exit to reach civilization?”

The goblin had fallen silent again, whimpering and shivering. Charynrae’s hand went up to its face, forcing it in her direction, not that it had its eyes open. “Goblin,” she said, her voice deathly quiet. “I like to take my time. I am giving you the chance to finish this quickly, but I am fast losing my patience. How do we find the city?”

“Map! On the table!” His voice was pitiful. She glanced over to where his shaking hand pointed.

“It has everything we need?”

“Ye- yes! Continue east…”

“How many of you?”

“I do not, I do not know!” He whimpered when her hand squeezed more firmly at his first denial. “The Master does not tell us anything important.”

She let out a sharp sigh. “Who is your master?”

“I cannot say, he will-“

“I am sure there is no punishment he has that will compare to what I will do to you,” she snapped. “Who is he?”

“Master Fel’dregar!”

Charynrae looked over at Amal, locking eyes. “Anything else you might like to know? I don’t know how much more use this one is, but we can always try.”
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