The Quiet Soul...

They may act goofy, tell them a joke, remind them of a good memory…What will turn the frown into a smile?

{{Alright first off, apologies @waterdeephero​! This ask has sat in my inbox for literal years! I have been waiting for the perfect inspiration to strike for this particular part of Dhana’s story-line. It is one of my favourite parts, largely because it is where Dhana meets my lovely @aquiversfull​ Kymiel. So finally, here it is! Forgive the length, I got carried away with battle scenes again x’D}}

Waterdeep, Hordes of the Underdark, Chapter ½: Canon!Verse

Thwack!

Blood ran icily cold, what remained of the bolt splinteringin her periphery. The emerald sheen wasn’t lost on her. Poison. Heart thunderingagainst her ribcage, Dhana darted down another alleyway. Visibility was growingincreasingly poor as near vertical sheets of rain hammered a crescendo againstthe cobbles. Squinting revealed little of Waterdeep’s winding streets, thesorceress barely making out the looming outlines of buildings. Had she time torecast infravision, she would have, but her assailants where incessant.

Another volley whistled through the air, ripping through thetop of her ear. Dhana drew blood from clamping down on her lip, smoulderingpain erupting from the wound.

Fucking drow!

Ducking beneath washing lines that extended across her path,the woman used the sudden cover to her advantage. More complex incantationswere out of the equation, but evocation came as naturally as breathing.

Hands outstretched, fingertips dragging along brick, Dhanafocused on the pain. The way water seeped into the ragged flesh, the shreddedcartilage flapping lamely in her haste. Ice crackled to life, feeding off theweather and her adrenaline. It shot out like spiderwebs, spikes erupting frombrick at an alarming rate. A startled cry pulled out a cruel smirk.

One down. Gods know how many more to go.

Something flashed up ahead, the tell-tale sizzling of the arcane. Dark brows furrowed a moment too late, therealisation pooling horror in her gut.

Spider webs.

She felt the fibrous grip snag hold of her boots, rippingone from her foot. The momentum sent her sprawling unceremoniously in a sticky,sodden heap. Muscles and bones shrieked in protest, the skin upon her forearmsshredded to ribbons from the friction. Dhana coughed violently, head ringing asshe tried desperately to get to her feet.

‘Zexen'uma harl, rivvil.’ *

She froze, head jerking upwards at the commanding tone. Likeice it slithered over her skin, enticing a rash of goose bumps to follow. Desperateto see through the watery veil, she struggled to raise her hand. A shadow leaptoverhead, a burst of silvery light and a shattering of glass had her seeing stars.

Like a fly upon a spider’s web, she could feel their eyesupon her. Whom ever it was moved closer.

“Phu’ dos zhaunus ol zhah ilta?**” an uttered whisper, somehowaudible above the rain, called from above. Their leader – or so she surmised – stoodbefore her now. Without a light she could make out little features, but the lethalpair of short-swords spoke volumes.

‘Assassins. Like the one in the Yawning Portal.’ Shegrimaced as the figure crouched down at her level, the overwhelming scent ofchemicals upon their person. A hand captured her chin, wrenching it up at apainful angle. She was twisted this way and that, the drow inspecting her earwith a growl.

“Foolish male, have you no eyes!? This is your pathetichandiwork is it not?”

With a jerk, Dhana was released. Recoiling, she pressed herhands more firmly into the ground and forced herself up.  This time her captors allowed her to kneel,but the red hued blade at her exposed throat meant she did little else.

“If you are so intent on killing me, hurry it up. I’ve freezingmy tits off out here!”

It wasn’t a lie. Having fled the inn with next to nopossessions, desperate to avoid questioning glances, the mage wore naught buther leather and fur padded armour. Even her staff was gone.

Sliding up her gullet, the short-sword rested just under herchin. She could feel the trickle of blood forming from the nick.

“Dos phuul natha bran uss whol zhaunus***,” followed by avelvety chuckle, “I will enjoy disembowelling you like the dog you are.”

N-Now hang on, disembowelling?! No one mentioned-

Phwet.

Dhana flinched as something thick and viscous splatteredacross her face. As she sat there blinking furiously through whatever thiswas, she heard a distinctive sound.

The twang of a bowstring. And whoever it was had stirredup one hell of a hornet’s nest. Shrieking drow echoed upon the roof tops, thesounds of spells zipping through the air and breaking roof shingles. Dhana feltthe blade fall, shortly followed by a body. The sorceress wasted little time inscrubbing at her eyes. Finally her vision cleared, sepia eyes swivelling about.

There, sticking out of the hood of her fallen captor,was a blue and white tipped arrow. From this distance Dhana could tell it was aclear headshot, right through the eye socket. She whistled, impressed.

That was until a dagger sliced through the air before hernose.

‘Yes Dhana, battlefield, we are in a godforsaken battlefieldyou twat!!’

Snatching up the blade she set about cutting herself free,the webs falling away. Whomever had cast it must have met an untimely end, asthe silk vanished. Dhana stumbled to her feet, willing her magic to harden uponthe surface of her skin and armour. Pieces of rock fell away as it responded, notwithout sending a dizzying spell of vertigo her way.

I…I need to rest, badly.

Sadly it seemed Lady Tymora was ignoring her again today, asan irate roar sounded from behind her. Bewildered, Dhana instinctively rolledaway, just in time to miss the great sword that spliced the space she had onceoccupied. A hulking, silver haired beauty with a none to friendly exteriorgreeted her.

Balanced upon the balls of her feet, Dhana acted quickly. Willingwith all her strength, she coaxed the water about the drow’s feet to burst tolife. It wound up his legs tightening and crackling with incessant cold. Hehissed, barking some very uncouth words in his mother language, managing tolift his blade with increasing difficulty. Filthy, bloodied and utterly fed upherself, Dhana gave him a dark grin.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Zu'tour ol elg'care-eugh!!!” ****

You would have thought that he’d have figured it out. After all,the metre long icicles stained red with drow blood was a massive give away.Dhana didn’t give him the satisfaction of answer.

She outstretched both hands. One hand clenched with violentintent, the other flipped a universal sign that shall not be repeated here. Thegreat sword clattered loudly upon cobblestone, her mouthy friend now the centreof a grotesque, ice sculpture.

Slumping against the wall, Dhana leaned her head back againstthe brickwork. Rain bounced off her feverish skin, refreshing despite the throbbingear. Morbidly curious as to the damage Dhana lifted a tentative finger.

“I would strongly advise against doing that.”

An involuntary spasm shook her entire body, the sorceressyelping in surprise. Leathers creaked, drawing her attention to the suddenvoice.

How he had managed to appear at her side so silently was beyondher. Well, besides the rain and the previous battle of course.

An elf knelt mere feet away, ears dripping, face clarteredin a similar fashion to her own. A heavy emerald cloak adorned his shoulders,swept across studded leather armour, held in place by a brass broach. Hisoutline blurred ever so slightly at the edges, causing her nausea to worsen. Hesmiled despite their situation, dimples appearing in his bronzy complexion. Evidently,he held this expression often.

“Please do not be alarmed, I have no interest in hurtingyou.”

She gave him a sceptical look, “Y-You sure about that?”

Those unusual ochre eyes gleamed with unspoken humour.Instead of answering he pulled back his cloak to reveal…a quiver full of blueand white tipped arrows. Dhana gawked.

“Y-You’ve got one hell of an aim!” Her elven saviour finallychuckled at this, the timbre pleasant upon her frayed nerves.

“Luckily for you, yes. Although, you are quite anintimidating fighter yourself.”

He gestured warily to the glistening, impaled drow. Sheshould have thought twice about looking, as it seemed her stomach had reachedits limit. Lurching away from her newfound companion, Dhana emptied thecontents of her gut onto the cobblestone. She could barely breathe from theconvulsions, feeling the bile burn her nostrils as well as her throat.

Movement from behind alerted her to the nearing presence. Callousedfingers gently lifted her hair, gathering it at the base of her neck. Had shethe strength Dhana would have slapped him aside, alas she could not. Weak, emotionallyexhausted the mage could do little but retch until nothing remained.

Minutes passed, odd gags threatening here and there. Oncesatisfied, the elf retreated, squatting before her with a flask.

“Drink this, please.” She squinted through watery, bloodshoteyes. He sighed patiently, “It is not poison, look.”

He sipped the contents, swallowing to prove his point.Reluctantly the sorceress nodded, taking the leather-bound container, and downingas much as she could muster.

“I have neutralised the remainder of your attackers. I suggestwe move from this location now, as it is likely another party will follow intheir footsteps.”

Dhana almost choked. Coughing, she handed back his water skin.

“What is this we?” He blinked at her as if it wereobvious. She snorted, “I do not need babysitting, master elf.”

Securing the hip flask upon his belt, the elf stood up. Headjusted his bow and quiver, before glancing back down at her.

“I prefer Kymiel if you don’t mind. That nickname is…painfullyformal,” not waiting for her to respond he bent down and secured his armabout her waist. Eyes widened rapidly, the mage squawking indignantly. Helifted her with surprising strength and ease, positioning her arm behind his head.She stumbled a bit, coming to lean into his gait. Dhana glowered.

“And you are?”

“Pissed off.”

“Well, Miss Pissed Off, you are hardly in any fit state tocontinue unaided.”

She couldn’t exactly argue with that, given the way her headspun from overexertion. Growling, she let her head flop forward whilst she centredherself. A pang of guilt ran through her.

“It’s Dhana, my name that is.”

She could feel him perk up as he began leading them away.

“Pity, I rather liked your prior name.”

“Ugh…shut up!”

Tonight was going to be longest night she had endured inmany a year.-Drow Translations- Taken from here and here.

aquiversfull:

Refilling his waterskin and checking his provisions took little time, though he was grateful for the chance. Now pouring over the map, eyes followed after his fingers as he traced the path.

After a moment, he nodded and straightened.

“I can familiarise myself with the lay of the land on our way.” His attention shifted to Rith, noting her air of professionalism. Smiling as he did, the ranger gave her a playful thumbs up. “And I won’t get us lost, promise.”

He didn’t wait for a response, turning to fix his bow and awaiting further instruction. Kymiel understood the wariness - it was a regular occurrence when meeting kin and strangers in general. But he took quiet pleasure in teasing, and now was no different.

It would be fun to have company, even if only for a few days.

The paladin nodded. She already liked the ranger. He didn’t fuss about the mission, and was getting ready fast. He didn’t seem like the kind to dwell on things for too long, and she appreciated that. 

She hadn’t met much wood elves in her life, but this one seemed nice. A little less shy and introvert than some she’d say, as she encountered really reclusive members of their clans. He was pragmatic too, which was really great, nothing like some sun elves that were all talk and no actions. 

“Great, I’m counting on you then.” 

She smiled lightly, already anticipating a possibly good partnership with Kymiel. Of course the mission was the most important thing. But doing it in pleasant company was always nicer. She checked her equipment one last time and exited the room. 

“Well then let’s go if you’re ready, I have provisions and a tent just in case, as well as some medicine. Master Sorrel knows where we’re going, so if something goes wrong he can send us help. I don’t want to alarm you of course, it’s just a matter of safety here. “

The paladin saluted the apprentices, but she didn’t see Leandre with them. She hoped he was in his chambers, or at least with Sir Escaloth. She hesitated a bit, but finally continued her walk. Sorrel was aware of his movements somehow, while she had trouble tracking him. She always wondered why he could when she couldn’t find the boy when he wanted to hide. Well, at least he was safe with the knights. 

“So this is the nearest path to the deeper part of the forest, do you want to lead the way? Here is the map if you like.” 

Falling into step beside his elven kin the ranger smiled kindly as she spoke, his eyes trailing across the walls of the church as they left its confines. A secure locale with many curious eyes and quick tongues; evidently the youth here found their entertainment at the expense of their elders. As the scenery grew greener Kymiel halted and took the offered map, scrutinising it once more before folding it neatly into his breast pocket.

Ochre eyes wrinkled in the corners as he took in the leafy track, placing it upon a mental representation of their map. Nostrils flared ever so slightly before he nodded, adjusting his pack and starting up the path with light feet.

Minutes passed in silence as they travelled beneath the green canopy, backs dappled by the filtered sunlight. Beneath creaking leathers, the ranger kept a vigilant eye upon their surroundings. Calloused fingers trailed against the trunk of a birch in passing. The texture rippled beneath his flesh yielding nothing but healthy bark, though he noticed the odd broken branch.

“I gather your Master is unaware what manner of traps these hunters have been using?” Snares or pitfalls were child’s play. However Kymiel doubted the church would require his help with something so simple. They could be hunting deer or boar, or worse yet, bears. Brows creased a little at that.

“There haven’t been sightings of dire wildlife per chance?”

Bayek of Siwa, the cat whisperer

Donglu Yu Senior Concept Artist at EA - Motive

Master Sorrel nodded at the question, a slight smile on his lips. It seemed like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. The dark circles under his eyes surely proved that the man was busy with lots of problems to be dealt here. That accentuated the newly found thin wrinkles around his eyes. Which he hadn’t be so happy to discover one morning. Well he was only human after all. 

“Our church isn’t so lenient with criminals I can assure you. The best would be to capture these poachers, if you can eventually find them. Then, we can offer a fair trial, depending on the situation.”

He looked up at Rith, but she was silent, she seemed like she was already thinking about the preparations to be made. Not unusual for her. More than once he had caught her murmuring to herself, making lists and plans far ahead others. 

“Well… I’ll leave it to Rith to lead you and assist you in any way you can think off. We have weapons, maps and food here, if there is anything you need.”

Stating her name caught her attention back. Her amber eyes were now focused on both men. She seemed a bit different near her kind, a bit guarded perhaps? 

“Of course, feel free to ask for anything, I have already a map, so we can leave now if you like. The armory is close by, we can go there and take some more stuff if there is anything you need.”

Well the other elf was ready to go apparently so they both left the room after a brief salutation.

***

Rith leaded Kymiel to the armory, inviting him to take arrows even if she was sure he had it already. She still took some rations for them, and some other stuff in case they would have to spend the night outside. Then she showed him the map, laying it on some table.

“Well as you can see the forest is near. The most recent track has been found there, it’s not so far, but it’ll take some time to go there without horses. Hum I’d say one hour or two, something like that. I’m not so good at orientation, so if it doesn’t bother you I’ll follow being inside the forest. What do you think?” 

Refilling his waterskin and checking his provisions took little time, though he was grateful for the chance. Now pouring over the map, eyes followed after his fingers as he traced the path.

After a moment, he nodded and straightened.

“I can familiarise myself with the lay of the land on our way.” His attention shifted to Rith, noting her air of professionalism. Smiling as he did, the ranger gave her a playful thumbs up. “And I won’t get us lost, promise.”

He didn’t wait for a response, turning to fix his bow and awaiting further instruction. Kymiel understood the wariness - it was a regular occurrence when meeting kin and strangers in general. But he took quiet pleasure in teasing, and now was no different.

Context: the party Ranger used his Nature skill to adopt (steal) two wolves from their thug masters in the middle of combat. When the party finished up and moved on to town, we found him on his phone.

DM: What are you doing

Ranger (ooc): Looking up how many pounds of meat wolves need to eat in a day

DM: Why?

Ranger (ooc): So I know how many cows to buy to feed my wolves? You think two is enough?

DM: Are you doing real life math? For non-existent wolves you stole from the thugs?