Remembering a God's death by sprite-light, literature
Literature
Remembering a God's death
:snowflake:
Featuring Baenre
Winter, Year 763 of the New Age
Blackwood, hollow at base of Whitepeak :snowflake:
It's hard to think it's been only 3 years since you were taken away from me in cold blood.
Not a day goes by where I wish you were still here to teach me and train me.
I failed you, I don't know where Isetnofret is and I fear she won't remember me or you. I believe she hasn't been told of your death yet either and it's been 3 years. I wish I could go tell her but I do not wish to put her in danger or put myself into a danger I can't get out of.
I don't have anyone here to save me anymore, you were my hero now all I have is mothe
FR: A Mage Of The Under Dark Fragment of an Idea: by Rudh, literature
Literature
FR: A Mage Of The Under Dark Fragment of an Idea:
FR: A Mage of The Under Dark Darkness surrounded them as the light of Narbondel faded completely. The desiccated ancient Drow leaned heavily upon his dragon shaped cane of black and tarnished silver. His raspy, labored breathing annoyed the tapered ears of his youthful apprentice. Long had his grandfather, S’zariokol, served House Baenre and the City of Menzoberranzan as Archmage of The City. It was rumored that he had been there when Lolth had lead them into The Under Dark, though Gromphe doubted such rumors. Gromphe leaped up onto the giant stalagmite and sat upon the smooth surface. He had often come with his master, S’zariokol, to the lighting of Narbondel since he had shown signs of magical ability. He would learn all his grandfather’s secrets then he would have to arrange the removal of The Ancient One, which would not be easy since he had strong fortune to have remained alive so long in such a cutthroat society as Menzoberranzan. For a male S’zariokol had acquired
“Why do I travel with you?” Jarlaxle frowned and turned away from his friend and partner, Artemis Entreri.
Entreri, as he typically was, was glaring at Jarlaxle. He rolled his eyes, then sat down at the small table in their inn room. Artemis took out his famed dagger-The Jewel Dagger-and ran it between his fingers. He sighed. Why must the drow be so insistent on pestering me? Jarlaxle took off his hat and rubbed his bald head. He cast a pout in the direction of Artemis.
“Why must you insist on acting so grumpily? You’re such an eyesore in that getup! Look, all that black and grey? Perhaps you should lighten up? A dee