#nirvaan

It was always cold whenever the two were together, but Assan had adapted to the presence of winter fey a long time ago. That might have been a reason that he’d been drawn towards Nirvaan initially, besides the more obvious: at the time the warder had a box of donuts. A sharp nose had quirked and now the rest was history, a few months in and the two were together for a picnic. Generally when they met up it was because Assan was hungry or Nirvaan was kicking him awake: typically late, his absent mind forgetting entirely that Nirvaan had told him they were going to meet up. It wasn’t Assan’s fault, he’d been very clear when he told him that 2pm was a bad time for him because the tiefling like to nap from 11am to 6pm on Tuesdays. 

Unceremoniously pulled from the bench that Assan was taking a short rest on, the promise of cucumber sandwiches and roasted chicken with cranberry sauce on fresh baguette was enough to get the tiefling off the bench and onto the blanket that was spread out for the two of them. By the time they got there, Assan’s share was already gone as he watched Nirvaan start to unwrap his own. 

“Tuna?” Assan said as he pointed towards it: Surely you don’t need all of that, right? The tiefling asked, Can I have half?

They each weren't without their respective skills, Nirvaan had improved a great deal, Tamlen was something else entirely, and Cloud had been strong the entire time that Inan had known them. Even if they wrestled with their unseen demons now. Their magic as a whole had increased a great deal, but it was marginal when compared to the noble houses, multiplying something minimal didn't increase it by much, but a larger sum only grew the valley between the common elves and the elves of the noble houses all the more.

Noble protectors and dedicated guardians, would that Zahrya would take a warder instead of the demon he brought into his bed then they'd be nearly complete. "I saw you at that vampire function," a wedding, a birthday, the solstice, a party of all things; a series of distractions that Inan had participated in but was now prepared to put behind him. Three arrows whizzed through the air, each fired in quick succession as the projectiles lobbed through the air some distance away were each struck and brought down. Simple. "it wasn't anything like what I thought it would be." Inan had expected bloodshed, perhaps a fight, but he'd found none - at least none that hadn't been spilled without consent.

The two hadn’t spoken about what had transpired in Frozenfar, Nirvaan had no memory of it and neither did Dareth. Something had happened though. The bodies had been brutalized and torn apart, eviscerated where the fate of the troupe should have been sealed, it seemed Nirvaan had indeed saved them.

“Just because you’re a hero now, doesn’t mean you can slack off.” Dareth said, re-emerging from the realm he’d sealed himself away in for the better part of the last month. Meryasek was alive, changed into... Something Dareth didn't recognise, but he'd take the win if it meant that his love had returned to him. “Something awakened whatever power was dormant within you, you and I are going to figure out what that was. Now save your game, and get up.”

Omggf!!!

This band has litteraly saved me and my life i relate to kurt Cobain screams

Nobody did anything around here to help her. Meera had been vacuuming the same area of the living room for the last forty-five minutes, it was very nice of her son to buy this for her for Christmas after she'd sent him the link, but she thought that meant he might pick it up sometime and use it. She knew that he was so excited to go to that wolf party but if he thought he was going anywhere with this house looking a mess then he had another thing coming. "Where do you think you're going?" Meera's hand was on her hip, her glasses were on the tip of her nose, she meant business; if she didn't get to have fun then nobody was having fun.

The snap of cold was telling, but the physical presence that accompanied an eladrin was even more so. Aegnor’s capture had left a bitter taste in Felandaris’ mouth, he’d been content to leave the fey be but the directive from the Queen had been very clear. They were to get their crown prince back and so far Felandaris had planted a few seeds to do just that. One inspired idea came in the body of a reanimated eladrin, a security policy so that the drow could slip into the heart of the fey forest when Felandaris required it. 

With the bangle gifted to him by Severon, Felandaris appeared entirely human, his presence and magic concealed, the drow wandered the maze with ease. The mortal design was nothing to balk at, and there, sat against one of the garden walls, was his prize: winter in origin, with a mess of blue hair that mirrored a darker version of the sky. Some device in his hands that he seemed intently focused on. 

“Oh, is that a game?”