Results for tag: corellon
Posted by: zephsright on May 1, 2013 at 08:38:22 AM
*Below is another bit of fiction about Suriel, my elf invoker/wizard/bladesinger, from Erik Scott de Bie's 4e Forgotten Realms campaign.*
“The gods are fallible.”
Suriel’s mind was a storm of thoughts and feelings, but like lightning flashing in the tempest, this thought kept returning to her over and over.
She barely noticed as her feet scuffed along the stone passageways of the underdark. The air was stale and acrid, but she didn’t care. The darkness was only broken by the dim glow of the magical disc floating behind her, but she walked on blindly, barely looking where she was going. She walked slowly, steadily, waiting for the right chamber or alcove to present itself to her. She didn’t know what she was looking for in the darkness, only that it was...
Posted by: zephsright on Oct 24, 2012 at 12:04:00 AM
*Below is another bit of fiction about Suriel, my elf invoker, from Erik Scott de Bie's 4e Forgotten Realms campaign. We have just completed the second installment of the tomb of horros and Suriel has discovered that she is more than she every imagined*
Rocks fell from the ceiling of the crypt, smashing the few remnants of the necromantic ritual structure that had itself just fallen to pieces, crashing down to the wet stone floor. The black necrotic sludge that dripped from every surface of this place splashed drops of decay onto the hand of the drow woman laying there, but was barely visible against the ebony hue of her skin. She stared at her hand even as the sludge withered it. A man nearby yelled something, but she could only gaze in astonishment.
Her skin and hair had changed. She...
Posted by: zephsright on Apr 17, 2012 at 11:53:40 AM
*Below is another bit of fiction about Suriel, my elf invoker, from Erik Scott de Bie's 4e Forgotten Realms campaign.*
Suriel ran through the woods, the crescent blade clutched tightly in her hand. Dripping branches slapped her in the face and scratched her body as she pursued her prey. The dark shape she chased remained just out of sight, dodging nimbly through the undergrowth, climbing trees in a flash, flitting from branch to branch. It was wounded though. It’s black blood left a trail that any elf worth her salt could follow, but Suriel was not just any elf. She was a devotee of the Seldarine, a champion for their cause and a warrior that battled their enemies with sword in hand.
That last thought made her stumble over an unseen root. A warrior? No she was a wielder of spells and...