With his single silver eye crinkled in disgust Varthen Moonweave took in the scene before him, doing his best not to heave. The light of the full moon graced the seemingly ordinary clearing, causing the sweat forming upon the ebony skin of the dancing drow to shine like liquid silver. The voice of several bards, singing in unison, filled the crisp summer air as the verses escaping their lips spoke of glorious heroes and times past. Easily sixty to eighty dark elves filled the grounds, all of them smiling, laughing and conversing with their fellow drow, some choosing to do so while still caught up in the dance.
Varthen Moonweave was the only
The halfblood standing before her was not Varthen Moonweave that alone was enough to make the priestess Narhethi seethe with contempt. Add in the story that the raven-haired woman was trying to feed them and the drowess was quickly growing outright infuriated. What do you mean Moonweave isnt here? She hissed beneath tightly set lips, Cyril stood with his head bowed beside her, no doubt trying to will himself invisible. This is his establishment is it not? Using her left hand she swept the lobby of manor that served as the Three Merchants headquarters. The halfblood woman sneered at the priestess
Fire splashed across the drow soldiers breastplate knocking him back and searing the flesh around his neck and arms causing him to flail and drop from the saddle atop his war lizards back. You wont take me alive priestess! Shouted the wizard whod cast the spell, a chubby little male from the eighth house as one his summoned hounds ripped into the burnt soldiers jugular.
Backed by several more soldiers the priestess Narhethi Cesvera smashed her mace across the conjured canines head sending him spiraling across the floor. Look around you Rilphar, With his back to lake Donigarten
Gareil gasped for one last breath as he plunged head first into the river, closing himself off from fear as his body was sucked beneath the water by the current. Freeing his hands from the ropes that the drow had bound him with the scarlet haired man wasted no time in pushing his way to the surface when the river dragged him downstream.
Dont let him get away! Yelled the distinctively baleful voice of the mercenary Sourin, A dark elf swordsman who the swashbuckler had been on his way to besting before being attacked by the psion who led the group. Wizards to the front, engage the target. Cursing in his mind Gare
19 Ches, 1368
Year Of The Banner
Moonlight filtered down through the night sky playing across the canopy of the Cold Wood north of Citadel Felbarr, dancing upon its dense plant life. Piercing the coverage of the forests foliage Selûnes silvery gaze found its way into the makeshift campsite of a group of travelers. Auril was not kind to them that night with her cold embrace holding them close, chilling their bones. Looking down upon them an owl sat upon its perch and hooted not once but twice, as if to taunt them all and remind them of where they were.
The whole scene brought a smile a certain dwarfs chilled face.
D
Casually lighting a cigarette Pietro Macardo stood out from the crowd as he always did when he walked through the slums of Sundabar. The tiefling wore the kind of fancy suit worn in the business field made up of a coal black jacket and pants. Beneath the jacket, which was open midway down his chest, was a long sleeved purple shirt that matched the bowler hat of the same color that he wore slanted so it eclipsed his left eye. The button to the cuff links of his wine colored shirt were painted black to match his jacket and pants, on his right hand was a similarly purple signet ring with a image of an eagle in flight imposed upon its center. The
A slow and easy smirked found its way to the lips of the scarlet haired human Gareil Anamont, his diligent work loosening the ropes that bound his wrists together. The human feigned defeat as the trio was separateda collar of silencing placed around the throats of the two spell slingershowever the noble was from far a defeated man. Hed been in this same situation to many times to count, bound and disarmed, surrounded by armed men the man know as The Scarlet Flirt was completely as ease. That being said however never had his captors been as formidable as the ones that now encircled him, but that didnt mean he wasn
Varthen Moonweave was not a pleasant man to be around when he was feeling uneasy or weak. So neither Calven nor his partner Malvaius were surprised when the successful merchant stormed out of his room, his one eyed gaze smoldering with annoyance.
What did surprise them however was the dark elfs attire, dressed in a long and simple purple tunic that stretched to sit loosely across his thin frame, its sleeves hanging down over his silver bracers. A thick leather belt devoid of weapons held up his tough leather leggings that concealed the calf-high boots he wore beneath. Strapped to his thigh by a strip of thick leather was his dagg
The Blaze Of A Faerie Lit Sky by Varthen, literature
Literature
The Blaze Of A Faerie Lit Sky
The Underdark, it was a place of darkness, a place of deceit and a place of dreadful beauty nowhere was this more clearly demonstrated than in the city of Menzoberranzan. Among the many noble houses of the city was house Duskryn recently appointed eighth house of Menzoberranzan, a position given to them after the fall of the former fifth house Agrach Dyrr, it was a position that many other households strived to use to further themselves in the city hierarchy. Among these ambitious people was the twelfth house Druu'gir, it was for this reason that the dark elf Varthen was hired to infiltrate the Duskryn compound, slay the current matron Bernit
A Villain's Apathy:
Part One: As Darkness Sleeps
Artemis Entreri sat alone on a rock outside of Calimport, a thoughtful frown painted across his sinister features. To the left of the rock lay a bloodstained cloak, his cloak though not his blood, and to its right lay three nameless brigands, dead. Two of them were missing their head, the remaining, would-be killer had a neat stab wound in his stomach where Artemis had drained his life.
Sand speckled his vision of the city, of his home, but he need not see to know upon what he was staring. The end of the trail, the center of his life, the single place he always ended up returning to.
"Jarla
Varthen leaned back comfortably in the corner of his near empty office. Pillows were stacked up against the wall and the stone floor was covered in black shag, soft enough to sleep on. His silver eyes gazed into the warm fire burning in the pit that had been placed in the center of the room, the fire magical.
It was rare to find actual light in Menzoberranzan seeing as how it hurt the majority of the populaces eyes, but not Varthens. The elf had, after all, grown up on the surface, only having come to the Underdark in his teenage years, a mere seventy at the time to the one hundred ten he now boasted.
The warmth of the fire filled the
A day In the Life: Z'hinsol by Varthen, literature
Literature
A day In the Life: Z'hinsol
A small smile played across the slime lord's features in response to the performing bard's change in tempo. The song darkened significantly adding a sense of drama to the battle that raged within the caged pit in the middle of the barroom floor. A drow fighter danced around a trio of grunting and slobbering bugbears, his scimitar and dagger flashing back and forth in quicksilver hands.
Z'hinsol was tall for a drow only two inches short of six feet, he wore a voluminous robe of darkest night with green stitching running up and down its length. A rapier that saw little use hung at his hip, mostly concealed by the robe, its hilt was dyed green,
A Villain's Apathy: Part two by Varthen, literature
Literature
A Villain's Apathy: Part two
Part Two: When Shadows Cross
Erevis Cale smiled, something's never changed it would seem, no matter the location.
The Silver Dagger, a tavern of disputable reputation, was crawling with would be adventures, most of which, Cale assumed, would end up as merchant guards. The youth of the tavern stepped with the self-assured swagger of untested youth, their hands resting uncomfortably near to their weapons.
To his left he heard Riven snicker as a hot-headed adolescent thought to draw steel on his gambling partner, a heavily armored dwarf whose heavy mace seemed to appear in hand before the human's blade was halfway out its sheathe.
The wou
Prologue: Religion and politics
Eleint 19, year of lightning storms
(1374 DR)
The dwarven half-fiend Saugiro Demonblaze looked down on the two people he was studying from the safety of his home. One, Helm dwarf-friend the leader of Sundabar sat patiently speaking with Alden Orestrike the Forgemaster of the dwarven undercity, where the majority of the city's dwarven population lived. Helm's salt-and-pepper hair hung loosely around his shoulders, which despite his age were still lean and strong. He wore a simple green cloak over a simple sleeveless blue shirt and breastplate, calf high boots and brown le
Part Two: Fancy Gibberish
Entreri saw the dagger darting towards him, saw the way the his adversary watched its flight and moved forward, his remaining saber held in a two-handed grip, every bit the professional, never underestimating his opponent.
And Drasek Riven was right in doing so for Artemis Entreri wasn't one to die so easily.
Entreri stepped forward and leaned to the right, taking the dagger in the shoulder. It was a daring move and one that few could bring themselves to do, actually stepping in to a knife's path, and one that caught even Drasek Riven by surprise.
Clamping his jeweled dagger between his teeth Entreri tore the dag
A Dwarven Conspiracy, Part 2 by Varthen, literature
Literature
A Dwarven Conspiracy, Part 2
A beautiful day for a raid:
Eleint 20, year of lightning storms
(1374 DR)
Kellick Stoneright stepped out from behind the wall of the bathhouse and brought a hard stone hammer across the face of the dwarf nearest him too preoccupied with the clasps of his armor to notice his attacker. The yellow-bearded Stoneright was dressed in a loose fitting gray tabard and long sleeved black shirt coupled with brown leggings and thick sensible boots. At his side he wore a simple chisel, like the kind used to engrave stone that, when used correctly was a more powerful weapon than his hammer could hope to be.
Slippin
A Dwarven Conspiracy, Part 3 by Varthen, literature
Literature
A Dwarven Conspiracy, Part 3
The Art Of The Double Cross:
Eleint 20, year of lightning storms
(1374 DR)
Kel heard the screams of his adversaries as the flames licked at their flesh. But even more importantly—to Kel at least—he heard one such scream cease to be as Robek's crossbow bolt found its mark.
Robek drew his rapier and quietly slithered into the room, Kel took a different route. Throwing his hands up in the air the runesmith mumbled the words of a spell and thrust out his palm, striking an armored dwarf with the full force of his hurled lightning bolt.
"That's two down."
****
Robek watched with satisfaction as Kel's spe
Varthen leaned back comfortably in the corner of his near empty office. Pillows were stacked up against the wall and the stone floor was covered in black shag, soft enough to sleep on. His silver eyes gazed into the warm fire burning in the pit that had been placed in the center of the room, the fire magical.
It was rare to find actual light in Menzoberranzan seeing as how it hurt the majority of the populaces eyes, but not Varthens. The elf had, after all, grown up on the surface, only having come to the Underdark in his teenage years, a mere seventy at the time to the one hundred ten he now boasted.
The warmth of the fire filled the
Current Residence: Auburn, washington Favourite genre of music: Metal and classic rock Favourite cartoon character: Kurama Personal Quote: There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance.-Socrates
Favourite Movies
Dukes of Hazzard
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Its a toss up between AC DC, Pantera and Def Leppard
Favourite Writers
Paul S. Kemp,R.A Salvatore,Clive Cussler,Robert Jordon,Terry Brooks,Terry goodkind and Dave Duncan
I am so inspired right now. I love it, its like christmas all over again I'm so pumped I havent had the desire to actually write in so long but now its back!
So. Very. Happy.
Stay beautiful ya'll! Its a wonderful day, the birds are chirping and my muse is out to play. ^_^
Clubs that I’m in:
~1d20 (https://www.deviantart.com/1d20) :iconLolth-Scourge:
People That I Watch:
:iconMiseryandAzaelyn: :iconOtterling: :iconMiserythedrow: :iconXullraeZauviir: :iconPaledrow: :iconSilvenger: :iconLordOnisyr: :iconZap-Ardendaeas: :iconyoski: :iconCaptain-Savvy: :iconDirewrath: :iconCG-Warrior: :iconAzraelEvangeline: :iconKageLu: :iconkeelerleah: :iconLuma66: :iconNoraimund
Long time no talk, fancy that.
My muse continues to be on the run but I'm slowly trying to overcome that myself, though things are proceeding slowly on that front. I find myself at the same time overcome by my want to write, the urge to put the plots rolling through my imaginaton to text, and at the same time uninterested. You see one thing I've noticed when I write is that very few people read what I post, I realize that obviously sitting down and finding the time to read is difficult but if no one is really reading what i'm doing than what's the point of posting?
Don't get me wrong for those few of you who do read my works I'm very thankf
Bam! http://littlegoblet.deviantart.com/art/Varthen-83833033
I dare you to tell me that Varthen doesn't look a straight up mobster on his way to whack somebody in that picture. I mean she made Blasphemy, the dagger, look like something straight of hell and even with the way he's like beckoning you to come closer is totally in character for him.
I fucking love it, just wanted to make that clear to all y'all you feel me?
Also check this out, http://littlegoblet.deviantart.com/art/Varthen-face-close-up-83833332 I mean for real just look at his eye and the sapphire in his patch. And than like his coin earring and the buttons its all so cool.