Angry Elf Returns!
Nov. 9th, 2023 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lydamorehouseLast night I reprised my elf barbarian, Idyril. We are always allowed to switch out our characters, but I'm pretty sure I bent the "house rules" by playing both characters at the same time. This is something we do quite often in my regular Star Trek game, but, so far as I know, is not the done thing with this D&D group. I have not yet talked to Jeff about this, but I'm sure it's not that huge of a transgression since we're in a kind of not-really-combat set of competitions. Our party is currently been recruited to compete in a city-wide Olympic games (or bread and circuses, depending,) kind of arena style battle of strength, fortitude, wit, and valor. I have been complaining that 5e has shortchanged the monks. They're just not all that much fun to play, honestly? So, I brought back my barbarian, despite the fact that he is not terribly stable in terms of "what if, raging?" and the party might have to tackle him if it seems like he is going for the jugular.
But, because it's me, I can't not play a little role-play as Idyril being Ave's very protective OLDER brother. And, then, because it just sort of happened, I started defending my friends to myself (as it were) as Ave... and yeah, last night I played two people at the same time, kind of by accident. Luckily, their personalities are night and day so it wasn't difficult to know who I was embodying at any given time. If there is happy chatter = Ave; if sullen, dark staring = Idyril.
Anyway, here is Idyril's letter home about this (mis)adventure. He is writing to his business and romantic partner, the Witch of the West Marsh, owner of the Sloshing Boot (under the cut, of course, because gods forbid.)
November 9
The Foolish Bachelor Inn & Tavern
City of Kavari
Ceyan Empire
My dearest beloved Sierra:
I know that you strongly advised against this trip to the Ceyan Empire, but, having met up with my sister and seeing the company she keeps, I regret nothing.
Sierra, I am deeply worried for Avelynnea. Her claims to adulthood aside, she seems fully unaware that she and her entire crew may be under the thrall of a warlock. This devious young gentleman going by what I can only assume is the false name “Matteo” has them all convinced he’s nothing but a shockingly handsome history major enrolled at the university. This is not even mentioning the fact that there is clearly some kind of nefarious government agent skulking around in the shadows, who Avelynnea thinks only as a dear friend, despite his obviously dangerous skill set and intense demeanor, and then…. Then, there is the very polite, yet equally terrifying Spawn of Hellfire, going by the innocuous name of “Thyme.”
To be fair to Avelynnea, she’d warned me about Thyme in previous letters.
The spy and the warlock, however, took me by surprise.
I think, perhaps, Avelynnea is simply not a very good judge of men. The women she’s surrounded herself with appear to be--well, I would not say less dangerous, as there’s no question that Agnes is more than capable of precisely executed murder, and whom only a fool hellbent on suicide by half-orc would challenge in the field of battle. But, perhaps… more normal? No, “normal” is also a poor choice in words. Dax is, by far, the strangest Dwarvan woman I have ever seen. Bearless, snowy haired, and fur-covered from top to bottom, there is something in her that is truly feral. I can smell it. We are of a kind, the two of us, but the beast that rides me is not nearly as literal as I sense is hers. Mine is fueled by anger; hers is fed by instinct. Making her the far more dangerous one.
Then, there is little Hana, quivering like an oak leaf in the great and lengthy shadow my sister’s brilliance casts. I don’t trust this one, Sierra, not at all. There is something in the way she will not meet my eyes that speaks of some great and fearsome betrayal and tragedy. I hope and pray for Avelynnea’s sake that I’m wrong.
I am staying in my own suite here at the Foolish Bachelor, despite numerous offers by a very drunken Avelynnea that I would be welcome among the “people pile.” As they appear to be nearly out of funds, I’m making arrangements for the crew’s continued stay here. Since I have sprung my arrival upon them unannounced, it’s the least I can do to make up for my rudeness. Avelynnea possesses an even worse understanding of money than I do, which I’m certain you can barely comprehend given the arguments you and I have had when I first attempted to keep the books at the Sloshing Boot. But, Sierra, Avelynnea has an entire purse full of gems, which she apparently just bought in the market because “they were pretty,” despite the fact that Anges has reassured me that the crew have far more precious stones in the “company’s communal till” which they were awarded for their adventuring.
I’m planning to stay a few more days. Not only will it serve me well to keep an eye on my baby sister and her extraordinarily motley crew of ne’er do wells, but also I have entered with them into a city-wide competition of strength, intellect, wit, and valor. It will do me good to stretch my legs and let slip the hounds of war, if ever so slightly. It’s not healthy for me to seethe quietly behind the bar. As you so often remind me, my angry face frightens away the customers.
Until I am returned to you, I remain your most loving companion,
Idyril
But, because it's me, I can't not play a little role-play as Idyril being Ave's very protective OLDER brother. And, then, because it just sort of happened, I started defending my friends to myself (as it were) as Ave... and yeah, last night I played two people at the same time, kind of by accident. Luckily, their personalities are night and day so it wasn't difficult to know who I was embodying at any given time. If there is happy chatter = Ave; if sullen, dark staring = Idyril.
Anyway, here is Idyril's letter home about this (mis)adventure. He is writing to his business and romantic partner, the Witch of the West Marsh, owner of the Sloshing Boot (under the cut, of course, because gods forbid.)
November 9
The Foolish Bachelor Inn & Tavern
City of Kavari
Ceyan Empire
My dearest beloved Sierra:
I know that you strongly advised against this trip to the Ceyan Empire, but, having met up with my sister and seeing the company she keeps, I regret nothing.
Sierra, I am deeply worried for Avelynnea. Her claims to adulthood aside, she seems fully unaware that she and her entire crew may be under the thrall of a warlock. This devious young gentleman going by what I can only assume is the false name “Matteo” has them all convinced he’s nothing but a shockingly handsome history major enrolled at the university. This is not even mentioning the fact that there is clearly some kind of nefarious government agent skulking around in the shadows, who Avelynnea thinks only as a dear friend, despite his obviously dangerous skill set and intense demeanor, and then…. Then, there is the very polite, yet equally terrifying Spawn of Hellfire, going by the innocuous name of “Thyme.”
To be fair to Avelynnea, she’d warned me about Thyme in previous letters.
The spy and the warlock, however, took me by surprise.
I think, perhaps, Avelynnea is simply not a very good judge of men. The women she’s surrounded herself with appear to be--well, I would not say less dangerous, as there’s no question that Agnes is more than capable of precisely executed murder, and whom only a fool hellbent on suicide by half-orc would challenge in the field of battle. But, perhaps… more normal? No, “normal” is also a poor choice in words. Dax is, by far, the strangest Dwarvan woman I have ever seen. Bearless, snowy haired, and fur-covered from top to bottom, there is something in her that is truly feral. I can smell it. We are of a kind, the two of us, but the beast that rides me is not nearly as literal as I sense is hers. Mine is fueled by anger; hers is fed by instinct. Making her the far more dangerous one.
Then, there is little Hana, quivering like an oak leaf in the great and lengthy shadow my sister’s brilliance casts. I don’t trust this one, Sierra, not at all. There is something in the way she will not meet my eyes that speaks of some great and fearsome betrayal and tragedy. I hope and pray for Avelynnea’s sake that I’m wrong.
I am staying in my own suite here at the Foolish Bachelor, despite numerous offers by a very drunken Avelynnea that I would be welcome among the “people pile.” As they appear to be nearly out of funds, I’m making arrangements for the crew’s continued stay here. Since I have sprung my arrival upon them unannounced, it’s the least I can do to make up for my rudeness. Avelynnea possesses an even worse understanding of money than I do, which I’m certain you can barely comprehend given the arguments you and I have had when I first attempted to keep the books at the Sloshing Boot. But, Sierra, Avelynnea has an entire purse full of gems, which she apparently just bought in the market because “they were pretty,” despite the fact that Anges has reassured me that the crew have far more precious stones in the “company’s communal till” which they were awarded for their adventuring.
I’m planning to stay a few more days. Not only will it serve me well to keep an eye on my baby sister and her extraordinarily motley crew of ne’er do wells, but also I have entered with them into a city-wide competition of strength, intellect, wit, and valor. It will do me good to stretch my legs and let slip the hounds of war, if ever so slightly. It’s not healthy for me to seethe quietly behind the bar. As you so often remind me, my angry face frightens away the customers.
Until I am returned to you, I remain your most loving companion,
Idyril