ᒥ🕷ᒧ—      Rinnill hadn't intended for his plight to be caught by the group. Though he wasn't subtle about sporting his prosthetic around camp, thus far his disability hadn't been acknowledged.

The pain had begun as the mage began dinner and only grew worse as the minutes ticked by. He had been staring at the bowl of stew and moving the spoon around with disinterest when the cleric suddenly inquired about his wellbeing. The drow hadn't known he was making a face at the food that was unappetizing in his misery.

@umbralitany

He hadn't had to cajole his siblings for long, it turned out. Lia had stayed awake a little longer than Cal - softly snoring almost as soon as head met pillow - but she'd dozed off soon enough. Despite their ages, Rolan couldn't help but faintly whisper a 'goodnight' to them before shutting the door, just like when they were children.

Relief and lingering guilt had left him sleepless, by contrast. Rolan had descended from the inn rooms upstairs; though he sat at one of the tables near the unmanned bar, with a tankard in front of him, he didn't yet take even a sip. Gods, it should have been him. He didn't regret, exactly, defending the children during that damned ambush... but maybe he should've done both. Or he should damn well at least have tried! He should've noticed sooner that his siblings were in trouble, should've made them stay at his side, should've gone out right away to save them rather than drowning his bloody sorrows, should've insisted on entering Moonrise Towers as well, should've... Something. Anything. All this potential he had, which Master Lorroakan saw in him, and what had he done with it?

Perhaps he was thinking too loud.

Rolan looked up, unable to hide the brief surprise from his face nor a curl of his tail. He didn't know much about the cleric - named Shadowheart, if he recalled - but knew the man was part of the party who'd brought his family back. "I am at peace," he insisted mulishly, but didn't have the strength left for much more. A beat, then a chest-deep sigh. "As much as I can be, anyway. Cal and Lia are back, they're alive and well, and..." A quiet scoff hissed through his teeth, as Rolan glanced aside. "And I had nothing to do with it. Again."

ᒥ🕷ᒧ—      His skin was clammy and a sickly grey as he trembled. It takes a moment for the other man's words to register, as his gaze is aimed at nothing in the distance and unfocused while dreadful thoughts spiral in his mind.

"I can be as great as I please...But I'll forever be stuck in her web," The words were hopeless and bitter. "A night of celebration and reprieve would, of course, be the perfect time for a reminder the Spider Bitch will never allow my freedom. I knew better than to think she would allow me rest, yet the wine clouded my judgement..."

Flashes of the horrific images and feelings that had filled his mind merely moments ago make him wince and his skin pales even more with the churning of his stomach. "You are my plaything, useless male," She hums sweetly as long spider legs split his limbs from four to eight. He feels nothing but agony and pain as he can do nothing to fight it. The air won't come to his lungs to scream; his limbs are leaded. "Your fate is sealed; you will be Drider. A punishment most deserved."

A List of Questions About the Blorbos (No longer accepting)

11. What kind of person brings out the worst in them?

Ooo, that is a great question! I have two answers for that. One would be the type of person who is stubborn and refuses to see reason. Absolutely unshakeable and convinced they are in the right. Not really applicable to the origin companions or anyone who is tadpoled (Gale being the exception. Dirt hates his guts).

Lomórë offered Arwen a glimpse into a world entirely unknown to her. Her father was a scholar and many formidable scholars resided in Imladris. Arwen had the luxury of being surrounded by wisdom and receiving it from elvendom's greatest minds this side of the sea.

Elrond also had the largest collection of lore and records in Middle-earth. He had granted Lomórë permission to peruse the collection. Perhaps her father was just as curious? After Lomórë's arrival Arwen had looked for information about the Voidsinger but found very little. Merely the gist of their goal to find an end to eternity.

But those who knew about Lomórë's beliefs at all, Glorfindel for example, eyed the elf with suspicion and contempt. Elrond was more inclined to give Lomórë the benefit of the doubt. He had told Arwen that being surrounded by fellow elves would hopefully have an effect on Lomórë and help him to connect with others again, after being led astray.

The weather would hold though it was gray and overcast it was an ability of a dragon rider to tell the wind and the storms. He thought now would be an ideal time to make his once over. To be certain he had not expected company. Though it wasn't unwelcome.

He finished buckling the pouch at his belt as he turned to look at Shadowheart and he wondered was she concerned ? or was she just curious ?it was not something he had really thought about. He inclined his head lightly. "Mainly, my plan is to fly my dragon over to get a good idea of the layout." he said "It will make it easier to know the layout for the tactically minded." he explained. "Much can be seen from the skies that can not be seen from simple foot approach." he explained tugging his warm gloves onto long slender fingers.

❝In case you haven't noticed... we're both unstable,❞ Dirt whispers, trying to keep their own laughter at bay. It wasn't every day that murderous clowns and displacer beasts ran rampant. Call him crude, but being a Bhaalspawn came with its own... unique sense of humour. Though Dirt had nothing to do with the shenanigans that unfolded in the circus and he was more than willing to help put an end to the chaos.

BRIDGERTON S2 PROMPTS @umbralitany

"I see."

Pale eyes narrow on the Sharran, and the hand that had attempted to reach out is quickly withdrawn back to her side. "My deepest apologies for thinking you could be anything more than the dogma of your goddess. I only wished to help," Isobel speaks, as she takes a step backwards and moves back towards the altar at her balcony.