Recent content by J'rell

J'rell followed in close pursuit of the party, aware that whatever time Vel'duith and Vyx'aria had bought was short and incredibly precious. Dante looked uncomfortable, but remained steadfast. J'rell took pride in the steel of his fellow human and aimed to mirror his example. With that in...

The streets of Zar'Ahal gaped open before him like nothing ever had before. Perhaps it was a combination of Vyx'aria's residual vision magic and the confusing, phosphorescent lights of the drow city that inflicted a phantasmagoria of impressions on him. Lights that seemed not to serve the...

Craaaack. Splat. J'rell ponderously looked down, where his sandal had crunched through a cave fisher egg. He recalled Vyx'aria's earlier scolding of the group for attacking these creatures; her near reverent respect for them. Cautiously, he swept the remaining shells and organic mucus aside...

J'rell gave Zathria a slow nod, like one might acknowledge a panther who had decided it wasn't hungry tonight. He felt some small relief that he could engage this village without the hovering oversight of the drow commander. Perhaps he could encourage them to leave. Spread tales of fear and...

J'rell's dark eyes kept lingering on Vyx'aria, unerring and hooded with thought. His silence brimmed with tension, filling the space of their little cavern with imperceptible weight. He hadn't heard such a faint tremble in her voice before, nor the brief halt in thought. Sharp and decisive as a...

J'rell carefully watched the vicious display of violence, cross-legged in his own seat. Among drow, it was hardly surprising — but it was enlightening. It told him that Vernutar was playing a cautious game, while Vyx'aria succumbed to pride. He felt a tinge of remorse for Vernutar's poor...

Suddenly, a memory plopped into the surface of his mind, ripples dancing over its waters. Dragonsong. God-child. Yes, he had heard of this before. Much, much longer ago than living memory; long past what this body had seen or heard. From a different life. A different time. But same concerns...

J'rell watched the man leave. When the man disappeared again through the bushes, he breathed a sigh of relief. Blood had been averted. He hoped he could stall it from happening more. Eventually, a rustle heralded the exit of the young romantics too. Fleeing deeper into the jungle, barely...

J'rell cut himself loose from webs embracing his legs. Said broad shoulders rolled back, eyes never leaving the now placid cave fisher. "Perhaps we may benefit from making camp. I feel my powers drained from our journey here. Stealth requires its own strength. We have made it thus far -- it may...

In matters of the sword, J'rell's deep vault of experience served him well. But lying? That he had never truly mastered. "It is true. They were. I barely escaped with my life." Truths all. But his held breath carried more news that craved release; as evidenced by Zathria hiding behind his...

J'rell's brow knitted at the mention of Vel'duith's occupation. "You were a thief, then." His voice didn't hold any accusation, merely the need for honest clarity, still frowning thoughtfully. He saw little shame in stealing from the tyrants of Zar'Ahal. He watched the illusion flicker past...

The young couple held their breath, as quiet as Zathria and J'rell. The man kept approaching them, perhaps mistaking them for the youngsters. At this rate, he would discover them both. Before the man could catch them near prone, J'rell rose to his full height, stepping before him, shielding...

"A long time," J'rell managed to say quietly, before conversation gave way for stealth. He snuck along with Zathria — not quite as stealthy as the drow commander, but proficient enough to stay out of sight. Creeping up on the outskirts of the village, another shout followed. A high-pitched...

"Let them come," J'rell mumbled back, his hand tightening on the grip of his sword, eyes staring daggers at their shrouded environment. "We shall be ready this time."

The worm was dead. Vyx'aria had cut a slice like one might take a piece of roasted venison from a spit, and not from a gargantuan monster that had sought to devour them minutes before. Yes, this was the way of the Underrealm. Eat or be eaten. And he saw that she knew this lesson well. The...