Jump to content
kek
Sign in to follow this  
  • entries
    4
  • comments
    0
  • views
    836

About this blog

What always draws me to these games are the pathways to creating your own story, and when I saw a chance to make a blog here I decided to give a shot with making a story based on my country on Politics and War. Can't guarantee I can post everyday (writer's block is my stalker) but I do hope you'll enjoy.

Entries in this blog

Amaryllis

Dark Maiden's Guide

A/N: I know poetry isn't a short story but screw you this is my blog and I do what I want with it. I'm more freestyle so that's a heads up. Enjoy some culture every once in a while. Also think this will be the last work involving Maddela for a bit. Emphasis on think.

Dark Maiden's Guide

Choosing exile over a pardon for a crime she was tricked into commiting. 

She became a guiding hand in the dark of her mother's wrath.

Freeing drow that wish to return to the surface and embrace the light. Even if it was a bit harsh on their white or red eyes.

Fight the battle of those who try to undermine the Dark Maiden's guide. 

But not always one with blades and blood although the Dark Maiden knows that will come. But one of kindness for all as that is her true goal.

To help build bridges between the drow and surface world. Knowing her mother's web has played a part in burning them all.

Your looks will cause the surface to fear and run, but the Dark Maiden encourages to carry on.

Practice what you preach is what should be done as a way to prove them all wrong.

And when her mother's spider horde charges forth, fear not as you pick up the sword to fight. As The Dark Maiden will be there to guide the blade's strike.

Remember this as you dance for her at night. Remember the Dark Maiden's Guide. 

 

 

 

 

 

Amaryllis

The Sword

A/N: For @Psweet because he demanded someone get hit with a bastard sword, you're lucky I'm nice :p anyway hope the rest of you enjoy and don't be afraid to comment. I'm a big girl and can take criticism

The Sword

Maddela's eyes widened as she felt the weight of the  bastard sword, or the Moonsword, in her hands. Ilvaria looked at her with amusement as she took a few steps back. Looking up at her foster mother, Maddela watched as the woman gracefully grabbed the hilt of her own blade and unsheathed it without hesitation and had it in battle ready with only one hand. 

"Don't worry, it takes time to wield a blade of this size. Time and practice, which is what we'll be starting on today." 

Maddela opened her mouth to say something but didn't have time as Ilvaria charged at her, swinging her blade with only one hand. Both hands on the hilt of her blade, Maddela held it up to block the incoming blow but was pushed back by the force a few steps.

"You're defensive stance is off. That's one thing we'll work on," Ilvaria said as she then launched at her again, this time two hands on her own blade.

Maddela tried to dodge this time. She considered herself to be quite light on her feet and Ilvaria wasn't as young as she use to be. It should have been an easy dodge. But then she felt the sharp sting as the tip of Ilvaria's sword swiped her leg. Not deep, but she knew that would scar as she stumbled back a bit again. 

"Take it the extra weight threw that off as well. Yet another thing we'll have to work on."

Ilvaria pointed the tip of her blade to Maddela. Maddela winced as she got back into her readied stance but felt the pain of her injury shoot through her.

"Let's make this more interesting," Ilvaria said, "The first one to reach five injuries loses and will have to take on the other's cleaning duty at the temple." 

"I'm starting to think you planned this." Maddela said as she baced herself and then charged. 

She brought the blade above her head with the intention to swing down but the weight again hindered her as the momentum from swinging it up caused it to launch out of her hands. Maddela turned her head for just a second as she heard the sound of it clatter before she felt another sting at her side.

"Well of course, how else am I suppose to teach you and get some time off at the same time. Also, this should be basic knowledge to not turn away from an enemy. Especially when you're charging at them." 

The redness in Maddela's gray cheeks were evident as she gripped over her new wound. This one wasn't deep as well, thankfully. Ilvaria again sent one-handed as she spun around. Maddela quickly pushed herself, barely dodging the blade's reach and hissing as her leg reminded her she was in pain.

"And don't think I'll wait for you to pick up your weapon again. No enemy does that!" Ilvaria came at her again and Maddela dodged again, "Think on your feet child!"

Maddela glared at her foster mother, "I would if it didn't hurt to stand!" 

Another hit coming overhead was again dodged and Maddela quickly went for her own weapon. 

"Don't turn your back!" Ilvaria chased her. 

Maddela had her hand on the hilt of her blade when another sting went through her other side. Gritting her teeth, she used the adrenaline to pick up the blade one handed and swung it around. The clang of metal again echoed. 

"And keep a calm head," Ilvaria said while smirking. She was using both her hands to hold up her blade and block the attack, "Also keep all potential weak spots as protected as possible. 

"What in the name of Eilistaree are you..." Ilvaria ducked quickly and swung her leg out to sweep out Maddela's legs. As she was falling, another sting hit her other leg and when Maddela was on her back, Ilvaria's foot was on her stomach, the wind knocking out of her as her grip on her blade was gone.

"So much to work on child," Ilvaria said as she loomed over her. Smirking again, Ilvaria only put her blade to Maddela's cheek and scratched it, "Five hits, I win." 

"Can I allow myself to be the typical teenager and say I hate you." 

"Of course. You can even say it when you take over my chores. Don't worry child, it'll take time to get use to the Moondancer and maybe I'll be taking on your chores." 

The smile on Ilvaria's face made Maddela roll her eyes, "Can you get off me now?"

 

End

 

 

Amaryllis

Guess

A/N: Yeah screw my original idea for this blog. I even forgot I had this thing. So now I decided to try something new like making short stories on random things. One day like today it'll be based off a childhood memory of one of my pathfinder characters. Another it might be a little tidbit of history involving the goat people. And it might just be something out of nowhere. If any requests let me know, I'll even keep you anonymous...if you give me Mountain Dew

 

Anyway here you go, as said this one will be based on one of my pathfinder characters: my half-drow cleric of Eilistaree Maddela. Originally it would have been Reda, my half-elf hunter who's possibly bisexual, but I decided nah. Also while we used pathfinder rules, we used a DnD setting. Enjoy.

 

Guess

"Have you found him?" Ilvaria asked in a soft tone.

Volundeil shook her head, a tired frown across her dark face. The answer was no surprise to the cleric who shook her head and turned on her heels to hear to the nursery.

"He's clever, no doubt. And definitely swift to manage to get ahead of us." Volundeil said as she followed her friend.

"It became easy for him when he does not have the burden of carrying an infant with him."

"Is that anger in your voice, Ilvaria?"

"Is it not obvious?" Lowering her voice just a bit more, Ilvaria pushed open the door to the nursery, "Would you not be upset over seeing a man just leave his child?"

Ilvaria recalled the day the man came to the Promenade. The Sword Dancers had to practically hold him up while they also held the infant. His eyes were sad but also determined as she helped to tend to his many injuries, speaking more than he ever did which was never. The infant who was nameless in the beginning spoke more than he did even if it was only babbling.

Ilvaria could have respected that. Being a cleric who had always dealt with the newcomers that the Sword Dancers brought in, she had learned to understand that silence was, for a lot of them, the one thing that kept him alive. This was especially so if they were freed from the bondage that came with being under a follower of Lolth.  

She had respected his silence even more when the Sword Dancers who had gave her a theory for his fleeing. Even the most well trained drow could only so much trauma. 

"He would have been safe here." Ilvaria said more to herself as she stepped into the room and to the crib. The infant - Maddela - slept peacefully, "And if he didn't feel safe here why leave her here then." 

Arrangements for both him and the baby were being made. Once his injuries had been completely healed he would have been given a place to stay and a chance to fully turn what the Dark Maiden wanted which was to lead Drow to the light of the surface world and build bridges with other races. Considering the infant he came with was half-drow and his possible story of how he came to the Promenade, it wouldn't have been too hard. 

But then he left. The only thing left by him was a piece of paper with the infant's name.

Ilvaria picked up Maddela and held her close to her chest as a slight smile came across her face. She had been unharmed when brought in, a blessing from the Dark Maiden herself. No doubt it was difficult for the man to keep her safe while on the run from a band of determined and vengeful drow. When he left, Ilvaria had volunteered to care for the infant until her father was found. If he wasn't, she intended to adopt her.

"Do you think I can give my guess?" Volundeil asked.

The smile turned into a frown and Ilvaria turned on her heels to her friend, "And what guess could you have to justify his actions?" 

"As we searched for him, we nearly had run ins with the party that was sent to hunt him down. Apparently they're relentless but if our observations are correct they're heading away from the Promenade. Why lead away from this place unless your target is heading the other way. What better way to guarantee the safety of your daughter than by leading the threat away from her?"

Silence came into the room for a few seconds. Volundeil's expression was soft despite the serious question she asked a few moments ago. Ilvaria thought it didn't match.

"Then why not tell us what he was doing?"

"Would you let him do it or would you expect someone else to let him do it," Volundeil didn't give her time to answer, "What I am saying is simply a guess and definitely something for you to think. Ask Eilistaree for your guidance on this when you pray tonight because I think you need it."

Maddela shuffled in Ilvaria's arms and let out a little whine. Ilvaria looked down and saw she had opened her eyes a bit, revealing red eyes that were unusual for a half-drow but not non-existant. Definitely made her unique.

"I will let you tend to her, but please think about what I said." Volundeil bowed her head in respect as she slowly backed out of the nursery.

Ilvaria rocked Maddela as she whined again and made her face scrunch up. Signing, Ilvaria nodded to her friend, "I will. After all guesses can be wrong."

And sometimes they could be right and if that was the case, she asked Eilistaree to forgive her. 

Amaryllis

Gray clouds are a common sight in Wintery and it's usually followed by snow. It's something Nana has learned probably before she learned to walk, and she can guess it's even earlier than that. She's also learned that what's called summer in their part of the world (generally it means the day's a bit longer and the temperatures are more likely to get above the freezing mark) is when she can expect tourists that are obnoxious, adventurous, or bored - and sometimes all three - to frequent her grandparents' tavern since it's climbing season and the goal to climb to the top of Mt. Golem is set.

"Hey, gorgeous, think you can get me some more coffee?" a tall man with red hair poking out of his wool hat winks at her while holding out his mug, "And maybe some more of that delicious beef stew?"

Nana wants to roll her eyes, but she settles for forcing on a smile and taking the mug, telling the unnamed customer - a name she won't even bother to know - she'll return shortly and heads to the back.

The tavern's busy with the lunch rush. Chatter constantly bounces off the walls and the clinks of silverware tries to join in as though it has something important to say. Nana finds it annoying.

"Coffee and beef stew for the obvious fool with the red hair," Nana tells Venus, her best friend and one of the cooks, "I hate to sound mean, but I think he'll probably coming crying down the mountain in a day."

"I'll give it a few hours," Venus says and laughs at her jokes, putting on a big ladle of stew for the man, "You can just spot one that's only doing this to gain some woman into his bed."

"Wonder how he'll do that with his equipment frozen off," the two girls laugh again and Nana takes the bowl, placing it on a tray before refilling the coffee.

"You girls aren't making fun of the customers again, aren't you?" Nana almost drops her tray when she hears her grandfather's deep voice that can control a room when released.

"Not at all, sir," Venus says, and Nana turns to see a sheepish smile on her friend's pale face and her dark hair falling to the side as her head tilts, "Just a bit of joking."

"Better be joking and working," his gray eyes zero in on Nana, his arms filled out from years in the military and years of just working with his hands crossed over his broad chest. He's dressed in layers as well with his favorite black winter jacket going with the hat Nana's grandmother knitted for his birthday last year.

"Yeah, of course, I was just going to serve this right now," Nana puts on her own sheepish grin and turns on her heels quickly, heading back onto the floor, and barely missing George, an older waiter, on her way.

Nana's not afraid to admit her grandfather scares her. She remembers years of riding piggyback on his shoulders and trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue as he trudges through the thick snow. Listening to his childhood stories while next to the tavern's fireplace and sipping on her grandma's hot chocolate. She even remembers playing nurse every time he's - in the words of her grandma - been a stubborn mule and pushed himself too hard. But Nana can also remember the intimidation stance he takes when angry or disappointment, the laser eyes that seem to almost succeed in making someone burst into flames by a look alone, and the no need for words when he's trying to get someone to back down.

People say it's a surprise a man like him is even in the hospitality business.

"Here you go sir," Nana hands the red-head customer his order and again ignores the urge to roll her eyes when he winks at her again.

She spots her grandma pouring  tall glass of what Nana can already guess is ale to a bearded man with rosy cheeks and clumsy behavior. The lunch rush wouldn't be complete without the usual drunkard. Nana can guess another tourist, one that's having second thoughts about climbing the mountain. No doubt he'll use his condition (aka the hangover) to not actually go. Nana wonders if he has friends that won't let him live him that done. If that's the case, he'll probably be back to down more alcohol and deal with a hangover on the plane back home.

Shaking her head to avoid the more amused smile, Nana went on with her shift, taking on the next order from a young woman who wanted hot chocolate and fresh bread rolls. Unusual, but Nana shrugs it off, and appreciates the "thank you" the woman gives her when she does deliver her order. Nothing else unusual happened until the rush ended - and the redhead gave her his number with a third wink - and Nana doesn't hesitate to sit on a crate in the back to rest her aching feet. She has a few hours to go before she's allowed to go home, and Nana's already planning on taking a hot bath and eating her own homemade stew and downing some strong ale before drifting off to bed.

No doubt the rush will be back albeit a bit smaller in time for dinner. Some of the climbers deciding to leave after eating to hopefully make a good distance before nightfall. Nana knows the idea isn't the smartest, but she can understand that trekking out while you're full and warm by food makes sense to the more ambitious climbers.

The breakfast rush will be smaller, with only a few climbers who are either getting one last cooked meal or have decided to chicken out of the climb mingling among the locals. Only the cowardly and family members will be back by the lunch rush tomorrow. Nana will be back as expected, and she'll probably encounter a few more drunkards who cry over their failures. Nana can't help but chuckle a little. Can't guarantee herself that her grandpa won't catch her laughing then.

"Nana, back to work!" just like he can catch her slacking off now.

"I'm on it!"

 

Sign in to follow this  
×