Tales of a bit different elf

looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you

looks like they could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll

looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll

looks like they could kill you and would actually kill you

Cold OR Hot

Envy OR Lust

Blunt OR Tactful

Dreamer OR Realist

Impulsive OR Planner

Stubborn OR Flexible

Sociable OR Isolated

Lazy OR Hard-working

Half empty OR Half full

High energy OR Low energy

Dependent OR Independent

Eloquent OR Rough around the edges 

Sees what they want OR Sees what is there

A ghastly hiss sounded from around the corner and soon this elf was met by a swirling, pulsating mass of black mist. A void lord, by the looks of it, but his form was constantly shifting and ebbing as an amorphous mass. It looked this little one in the eyes with its piercing, bright-white gaze, and merely cocked its head.

The sight and sound of the augur tumbling off the couch made Viridiel wince sympathetically. He was just about to speak when Fiorintina’s question caught him off guard, and he ended up gawking at her for a moment, his mouth ajar.

"Assassinat—wait, what? You don’t honestly believe that I tried to kill you, right?" he asked with a dumbfounded expression. "You must live a pretty dangerous life if you expect a plate-wearing person to suddenly do a back flip and slit your throat - or, well, do anything along those lines."

The warrior glanced a little worriedly at the scrying orb and around him before he stood up, scratching the back of his head with an awkward expression as he looked at the clairvoyant.

"I guess I owe you an explanation. And an apology. So, uh, sorry about that."

He rummaged his satchel and pulled out enough coins to pay for the auguration, and he set the coins on the couch before taking a couple of steps away. Then he raised his hand in front of him, checked that his surroundings were relatively free of any obstacles and begun muttering something akin to a short spell incantation. A puny, flickering flame appeared onto his palm, but it didn’t last long; while the incantation was still going on, it disappeared with a cracking sound and a puff of smoke.

"Oh, no no no, my life isn’t dangerous… In fact, it’s so safe that I must fear that something’s coming out to get me! You see, I almost never check the doors of my own fate, so I have to worry where life can take a wrong turn. Normally Cozsius prevents my life from doing such a thing, but it never hurts to be extra careful!" she explained, a bit embarrassed about her overreaction. Eyeing him curiously now, Fiorintina scrunched her face up in deep thought, trying to find a solution to his problem with the arcane.

"Would you like a few tomes of mine? I started quite the library in my free time! Here, I’ll go fetch you a handful of helpful starters," she chimed before her guest could even give an answer, and dashed off to god-knows-where. Faint sounds of struggling came from a different room, and the eccentric warlock wobbled out of her library, knees shaking, bearing massive stacks of books.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever understand casters. Oh well, at least she seems nicer than most..."

His half-voiced musings were cut short when Fiorintina returned with a pile of books which seemed entirely too heavy for her to carry. He stared at her blankly for a moment until her words sank in.

"Hold on a moment. Are you saying that you're... borrowing those books to me?" he asked with an astonished expression. "Or giving them away? Are you serious?"

It wasn't until this point that the warrior realised that the augur was staggering with the load and walked to her, but he only took part of her load, leaving her with what he estimated she could carry relatively easily. He turned the books in his hands, examining any titles possibly written on their backs.

"You know, I can't take the whole lot. It would be pretty inconvenient to carry them all the way to Silvermoon... not to mention that I'm not sure whether they will help a lot because I just suck at Arcane." He let out a sigh and shook his head lightly. "Still, I... well, I guess I'm better off giving it a try. I'll take these with me and give them a read."

He took a step backwards and looked at Fiorintina, first opening his mouth as if to speak but then closing it and just clearing his throat a bit awkwardly instead.

A ghastly hiss sounded from around the corner and soon this elf was met by a swirling, pulsating mass of black mist. A void lord, by the looks of it, but his form was constantly shifting and ebbing as an amorphous mass. It looked this little one in the eyes with its piercing, bright-white gaze, and merely cocked its head.

"Oh, no no no, don’t let visions of the future give you the wrong idea! Whatever fate may tell you, you are still the one who can shape what it tells you next! I mean, um… If you can keep a secret, then I wouldn’t mind telling you that I was supposed to be a big, brave, strong knight like you and my father, but a lot can change in a short amount of time and I’m pretty happy with my life! I think… Forgive me if that was unwanted information or if the anecdote was unhelpful, but I just want you to know that wherever you may lead your life, and please do know that fate is not the leader in this ordeal we call the mortal coil, you will still find yourself able to change. You may hate magic now, but it may become your greatest love in just a few years! You may find yourself satisfied with being a soldier now, and hopefully you can find yourself being even happier with that job in the future and-"

The sparks emitted from Viridiel’s hand startled Fiorintina, and like a cat she was quick to react and she lept back from the surprising sound and light. Unfortunately for the warlock, she was about as graceful as a cat made out of lead, and promptly flopped off of the couch and landed on her rear with a thud.

Fiorintina whined, sitting up from where she had clumsily fallen, and then peered over the couch’s armrest to look at Viridiel.

"Assassinat--wait, what? You don't honestly believe that I tried to kill you, right?" he asked with a dumbfounded expression. "You must live a pretty dangerous life if you expect a plate-wearing person to suddenly do a back flip and slit your throat - or, well, do anything along those lines."

The warrior glanced a little worriedly at the scrying orb and around him before he stood up, scratching the back of his head with an awkward expression as he looked at the clairvoyant.

"I guess I owe you an explanation. And an apology. So, uh, sorry about that."

He rummaged his satchel and pulled out enough coins to pay for the auguration, and he set the coins on the couch before taking a couple of steps away. Then he raised his hand in front of him, checked that his surroundings were relatively free of any obstacles and begun muttering something akin to a short spell incantation. A puny, flickering flame appeared onto his palm, but it didn't last long; while the incantation was still going on, it disappeared with a cracking sound and a puff of smoke.

A ghastly hiss sounded from around the corner and soon this elf was met by a swirling, pulsating mass of black mist. A void lord, by the looks of it, but his form was constantly shifting and ebbing as an amorphous mass. It looked this little one in the eyes with its piercing, bright-white gaze, and merely cocked its head.

The sensation of fel magic made Viridiel frown, and the cold jerk which felt to be coming from his insides made him wince ever so slightly, but the short warrior quickly steeled himself and forced his body to remain still as a stone afterwards. Though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Fiorintina’s tale of a soul being ripped into two had made his blood run cold. He’d definitely not want to add warlocks or warlocky augurs to his list short but of people to run away screaming from.

He managed to stay cool relatively easy when the clairvoyant described the first vision. The second one, however, was more difficult, and her cringing and then squeezing his calloused hands so tightly that he could feel the bony structure of her fingers and palm didn’t really help things. 

"Shrapnel… in eyes?" he first repeated in confusion. It took a moment before the mental image formed in his mind. "Oh. Whoa. That’s… really nasty." He felt a little ill and shuddered slightly. Fiorintina looked even worse than he felt, though; Viridiel looked at her a bit unsurely, ready to grab her in case she would faint.

"Well, at least I managed to avoid the worst," he said, trying to voice a cheerful or at least nonchalant tone. "I don’t seem to be in a dire danger of dying to… magic, after all… Magic. Damn it."

Any possible cheerfulness died from his voice halfway through his words, and his arms went limp. The warrior cursed under his breath and seemed to almost forget Fiorintina for a moment.

"Oh? Do you have a fear of magic? I suppose your choice in seeing me was the wrong one, then, but I’ll hush my spellcasting if it offends!"

The warlock was looking towards Viridiel meekly now, hunched over and fearing anger from him. She was starting to wake up just enough to be nervous, and upsetting people with weapons never went well for Fiorintina.

"No, I'm not hurt. You did what you were asked, even if it almost felt like someone was gutting me." He tried to lighten his words with a grin, but the cheekiness didn't reach his eyes, and so the expression ended up probably resembling a grimace more. After the futile attempt, the warrior sighed.

"And no, I don't fear magic, either," he continued. "I just hate it. At least when life seems to be trying to tell me that I'd be better off throwing away this armour and sword and blowing myself up with Arcane."

Viridiel watched Fiorintina in silence for a beat. His final words came out somewhat bitter, but the passing moment seemed to drain most of his anger away, leaving a somewhat frustrated and slightly embarrassed expression on his face.