#kaladan Tumblr posts

  • thewanderingvanguard
    27.08.2019 - 1 year ago

    I noticed today that Divine Veil has a sweet sword flip in it, so I went to the Royal Menagerie to take some pictures of it.

    ...I am a fool for not having played Paladin sooner.

    #ffxiv#pld#paladin#kaladan #this is only the level 70 armor too
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  • broodingmischief
    23.08.2019 - 1 year ago

    Fratricide [Surina]

    Surina had felt ‘off’ the entire night. It started as soon as she donned her armour and never left her as her practised movements took her hacking through the bandits attacking her home. She carried it with her as she glared at their corpses, leapt on to her horse, and spurred her down the path where her brother was to meet her.

    She stopped her horse’s gallop upon sighting another batch of figures on the road. She recognized the glint of Windcrest armour on several of the prone bodies and dismounted, rushing over. None of them moved.

    She checked over each, rolling them over where she had to. One of them could have potentially been alive, just unconscious, but she found no pulse or sign of life. Guard. Bandit. Guard. She recognized some of their faces. They were part of Kaladan’s team. Her dread mounted.

    Finally, she reached him. Kaladan laid face-up, his fur cloak matted with dirt and blood. There was a gaping hole wrenched into his breastplate and his arms were splayed by his side, his weapon out of reach. A stream of blood poured from his mouth and nose, all meeting together to absorb a deep crimson into the earth beneath him. His eyes, glassy, stared up at nothing.

    Surina stood over him, numb, giving a single slow shake of her head. Her guards hovered behind her. She’d seen countless corpses, probably more on this night than any other in her life, but none of them held the same weight as Kaladan’s. Dragonborn were known for their longevity. The only deaths she knew personally were premature and through combat. Her brother could not join that list. 

    She shakily lowered to one knee, sword now in a vice grip, and turned his face towards her. She realized that she had already seen him in his last moments alive, nodding to her in certainty of victory as they clasped hands. She would never see him smile, laugh, bicker with her, or cry ever again. Grief and disbelief collapsed on her and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back tears. She had been right to think they should have stayed together.

    She hardly noticed the galloping of hooves grow louder or the clatter of moving metal as more soldiers approached.

    “See, it is as I said,” a voice said. She looked up and rose to her feet, though her knees almost quit on her. Lord Amysic’s escorts, her father, and several more Windcrest guards had arrived. Her father, normally vast and imposing in his armour, looked smaller as he stared on in horror, his sword held loosely in his grasp.

    “It is as what?” she asked. The dread curdled in her stomach, made her want to be sick.

    “It is true, then?” her father whispered. He gestured to Kaladan, his brows lowering in anger as he raised his voice. “Your murdered your brother? My son?”

    “What?” The force of the accusation made her reel back a step, then retake it with a stomp. “No! I would never do such a thing, how could you possibly—I would not dream of hurting him.”

    Torinn glanced sideways to Amysic’s guards, uncertainty passing over his eyes. One shook their head. Torinn looked back to her, his eyes flicking downwards, and she realized she was waving her sword around, coated in blood.

    She knew this stacked against her, but she refused to sheath it, reinforcing her grip. She was innocent. She shouldn’t have had to and it was the only thing in the moment that felt real and certain. 

    Her own assigned guards stepped forward. “She’s lying, my lord,” one said. Surina’s blood froze. “He was alive when we arrived, but she waylaid into him while he was injured. It was if she lost her mind, we saw it happen!”

    Surina’s head snapped in his direction. Before she could open her mouth, her second guard chimed in. “It’s true. She led us past our allotted route, sir. He did not stand a chance.”

    Adrenaline still roaring in her, she reached for his throat. “How dare you,” she snarled. “You were with me! You fought beside me! We were late!” She threw him backwards and he stumbled. She looked to her father, whose eyes were wide. “He was dead when we arrived, it is they who are lying!”

    “She really has lost her mind!” One of Torinn’s guards shouted from the back. “You’ve seen how those two have been at each other’s throats recently, it was only a matter of time—”

    “You,” she said, jabbing a finger at him, “Shut the hell up. This is not your business.” She whirled again, this time on her other guard, who backed away in genuine fear. “Who is paying you to lie? Who do I have to—”

    “Enough!”

    Her father’s voice cut through the noise and the ringing in her ears and the flat of his sword bumped against her waist. It hit her armour, but he held it with force, and she knew he could overpower her should she continue. She stopped. She pushed it away, but he lowered it to the ready by his side, mirroring her.

    “I will not have any more violence here tonight,” he said coldly.

    “Father,” she pleaded, “I did not kill him. I have said it before and I will say it again: I would not dream of hurting him, let alone killing him. We have butted heads, yes, but never enough to warrant his—his death.” Saying it aloud was like glass in her throat. She stepped forward. “How could you believe the word of them over the word of your own daughter?”

    “Do not force my hand. Give me your sword.”

    “But— ”

    “Now.”

    She held out her weapon. He snatched it from her, then passed it off to a guard behind him.

    “This must be investigated. You, Surina,” he paused and closed his eyes, like the words physically pained him, “must be taken into custody.” He opened his eyes, gestured with two fingers, and Surina jerked as two burly dragonborn grabbed her arms from each side. She wrestled them off at first, but they came at her again and restrained her.

    “Do not resist,” her father said, this time with sorrow as he sheathed his own sword. “I do not want to believe that my eldest is a murderer, but I must remain impartial and the evidence I have seen thus far does not look kindly upon you, daughter.”

    “No!” she cried. The guards started to drag her away and she continued to fight them, kicking and screaming until she was spent and they had to support her weight as they fit her into cuffs. “Father, how could you—I did not—I could not—” She heaved a sob. “Kaladan—”

    Torinn knelt by Kaladan. He bowed his head and gently, slowly brought his eyes to rest. “There will be justice.”

    #writing: surina#surina#kaladan#torinn#caerllon#writing tag #blasts goodbye brother on repeat while wearing sunglasses #queue
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  • moonfortuna
    20.08.2019 - 1 year ago

                  ~~~~~~~~~~~♥♥♥ Mr. and Mrs.Kimbatuul ♥♥♥~~~~~~~~~~~ Bonus Photos: 

    Thanks♥ @thewanderingvanguard @bluntmage @rainfanu

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  • broodingmischief
    08.08.2019 - 1 year ago

    Instinct [Surina]

    Surina stared dead ahead. She clutched the reigns of her horse tight and felt tension form a grimace on her face. There was no way to describe how she felt except for ‘off.’ It was like dread followed her at her back but whenever she turned her head to look, she saw nothing. 

    Fires formed a distant glow on the horizon, illuminating the dusk above a canopy of pines. A rain had fallen earlier and the air and earth were both damp, puddles forming like holes on the dirt road that lead between the smaller towns on her father’s land.

    She spurred her horse a tad faster and heard the hooves of her brother’s steed keep pace. She glanced over her shoulder. Kaladan stared directly at her and not their destination, grim-faced and thoughtful. He’d worn the same expression in the armoury until she’d stalked over and straightened out his armour.

    “Quiet,” she hissed.

    Kaladan raised his hands placatingly, his reigns looped behind each thumb. “I did not say anything.”

    “I can hear your thoughts.”

    “That is odd, I did not think my thoughts sounded like horses and armour.” He lowered his hands, his expression not having washed away. “What is wrong?”

    She snorted and turned to face forward, the air forming a white mist in front of her nose. Kaladan trotted up beside her, leaning over his horse and lowering his voice, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough that their guards didn’t overhear.

    “Be honest with me,” he said. “You may claim to hear my thoughts but I cannot hear yours.”

    “We are not far from Timberwook,” she said cooly. “I do not think it wise to start this discussion at this time.”

    “Perhaps it is the only time.” He straightened and shook his shoulders, his fur cloak releasing a smattering of droplets. “Have we had this discussion before?”

    “Of a sort. I do not wish to talk circles before we are to fight.”

    “But I do not want it on your mind during the fight. I am sure I am not the only one who wants you focused.” He jerked his head to the direction of their father’s voice directing the guards. “Tell me, Surina.”

    She sighed, but refused to let her posture droop, squeezing her shoulder blades closer together. “I do not know what to say. I simply feel ‘off.’” She regarded him, allowing a crease of worry to appear in her brow. “I do not think we should split up. Something does not feel right.”

    Kaladan met her worried look with one of his own. “Is there a reason you feel that way?”

    “No. It is simply a feeling. I do not like that you, father, and I have all been called to fight all at once.”

    Kaladan shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

    “That does not console me.”

    “I know, I’m sorry.” 

    Surina’s worry soured, her expression forming into a slight glare. “You have been the one to tell me to trust my instinct and my gut.” 

    “And I stand by that,” Kaladan said. He cleared his throat, stole a quick look behind them, then drew closer. “You have good judgement, Surina, and you should believe in yourself. Do you really think we should stay together?”

    Their horses slowed, allowing the guards and their father to catch up with them at a fork in the road that split three ways. Surina hesitated, then nodded. They both turned at once as their father rode up between them, separating them, their horses stamping their hooves. 

    He searched both their faces, his lips creeping downwards. Surina thought it was if his little spectacles were seeing-eye glasses into their heads as she saw him recognize their hesitation for what it was.

    “What is it?” he asked. “We must move.”

    Kaladan opened his mouth, but Surina intervened. “I do not think we should separate,” she explained, and despite her gut feeling being absolute, her voice didn’t sound as confident. “We are stronger together. Kaladan and I will be able to clear bandits faster together, then move on-“ 

    Torinn shook his head. “No. We are to stick to the plan. It has been decided.”

    Surina looked to Kaladan, who also didn’t seem to share her confidence, but gave her a tiny nod. She leaned forward. 

    “Father,” she said, “would it not galvanize the guards and townspeople to see us united, and strike fear-”

    “No,” her father repeated, louder this time. “We are wasting time. You are to do as you’re ordered.” His austere look softened. “You are strong alone, Surina. Kaladan as well.”

    “And we are not truly alone,” Kaladan piped up, drawing her gaze. “We have our guards. I will be with you again soon.”

    As if on cue, Surina’s guards filed in behind her, and Kaladan’s by him. Surina’s dread only mounted at the sight of them in three groups and not one or two, but she held her expression firm, not wanting her father to see her waver in spirit. She swallowed the trepidation in her throat.

    She reached out and Kaladan grasped her hand. "For Windcrest.”

    “For Windcrest."

    #surina#writing: surina#writing tag#kaladan#torinn#caerllon#jazz hands #last words ever exchanged #i love making myself sad
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  • silver-dragonb0rn
    30.12.2018 - 2 years ago

    These are the characters we’re using on our second campaign- all homemade this time, with our DM making the world & story from scratch as well! I’m playing the Dragonborn, and my friend is playing the Elf! 

     Name- Kaladan Delmirev 

    Gender- Male

    Race- Dragonborn (Silver/Ice) 

    Class- Paladin (Oath of Conquest) 

    Alignment- NG 

    Story- A runt who trained to be a soldier & gain respect from his fellow clan members/different clan allies in the tundra mountain town of Rimevale, lost his father to a drow assassin & joined the fight. Made a mistake in battle, which led to defeat & carnage. Forced into Exile & wanders for the next 20 or so years, before joining Nevermore city's Adventurer’s guild and meeting Rael. A grumpy, stoic, intimidating & antisocial type, but loyal, strong, protective and trying his best to be friendly. Still has issues from his past. 

     ———— 

    Name- Raelear Eathalena 

    Gender- NB 

    Race- Elf 

    Class- Sorcerer (Storm)/Druid 

    Alignment- NG 

    Story- Born in a small coastal village but ran away into the Fae wilds where they then grew up, raised by the beings living there. Accidentally destroyed their old village & killed everyone. Changed name to Rael as they grew into a rather young-minded and naive soul, but also began to develop a second, less childlike and more serious & harsh personality named Lear, influenced by the Shadowfell but not inherently bad- The two just want control of the body to protect their preferred domain and are kind of uncertain of one another. Later on, Rael discovers the Adventurer’s guild and joins, meeting Kaladan.

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  • songmyself
    20.03.2021 - 4 weeks ago

    Arashi Hanabira Il mio pg di dungeons & dragons in versione carta

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