Given her history of taking out whole guilds of thieves (allegedly) and bolting, the fact that Ea Lowkey has a moral code should surprise anyone - especially out of her current companions.
Astarion doesn't know her well enough, but he's already decided that she's some goody-two-shoes for wanting to prevent druids from murdering a child. Shadowheart has kept a lot of secrets close to heart, but she still let a disapproving frown slip when Ea offered to help Lae'Zel. And Lae'Zel...
Well, anyway.
Out of everyone she's been stuck with on this journey, Tav at least doesn't operate under delusions of how Ea is. At her core, she'll circumnavigate rules to suit her, or people she might care about.
This request, from the myconids and from Thula alike, is an easy one to accept; she's good at killing, and at spotting a possible looting and trading opportunity. (Finding the herbalist's lost husband, on the other hand? She'll lend a hand if she spots him, but he's a grown dwarf and should be able to fend for himself down here. Besides, his wife warned her she'd offer no reward for recovering the man, so...)
There comes a point where she slips out of the camp while the others are busy sniping at each other verbally, subtle as a shadow.
To find Tav is not difficult, despite the half-drow inheritance - maybe she has a magnet tucked deep that guides her to where he is.
She's brought both her bow and the daggers, for whatever may come out of this.
"Well, then," is the murmured greeting. "Let me scout ahead so we can see how many people we're dealing with?"
Elven eyes and ears were keen; he spotted her vibrant coloring the moment she appeared over the ridge. Pushing out of his lean and giving Ea a nod of greeting, Tav then snorted softly at her suggestion.
"Does it matter? We're going to kill them all." While he normally did go for as much reconnaissance as possible, sending Astarion and Ea to suss out whatever place they were about to decimate, this time Tav didn't think it very relevant. The two of them together were more than capable of handling a battalion of dark dwarves, should there even be so many congregated in one place.
And if they were, they were fucking idiots, the entire lot.
"But I won't stop you if you're absolutely itching to check." He waved a hand towards the lake's chasm, a faintly indulging smile ghosting around his mouth.
"Magnanimous of you," she drawls in that dry tone of hers (Not a lick of charisma in our magical little rogue, someone snide could say), tucking her daggers into the sheathes on her hips.
"But thank you, very kind." With a wink, she pulls the hood of her cloak up to cover the pastel bright hair (her colouring has always been a nuisance as a young criminal; keeps being one, even as she's gotten older) and dashes on ahead.
Charisma might be her lowest point, and who knows how she's managed to stick with her present company for so long, but the stealth is unparalleled.
Even Astarion doesn't have it this good. Not that she ever feels in competition with Astarion for being two rogues in a group. This is fine.
As she approaches the beach she finds the first rooftop and climbs it, sneaking from one decrepit building to the next, keeping an eye out for the dwarves.
A touch of magic - minor illusion on the beach - brings about five of them out, with orders barked from another three from the building under her to stop dilly-dallying.
She feels confident about her and Tavvarion's odds now.
So she slips away, blend into the shadows, and manifests herself back at his side at the top of the slope.
"Seven are certain, maybe more. I've found a good spot to take them out with arrows. So if the itch is for a confrontation before you rain whatever violence it is on them, let me at least get up there first and be of help watching your back."
She was definitely stealthy, no question. Tav watched Ea melt into the darkness with an amused grin, loosening his scimitars and ghosting to his own hiding place at the cliff's edge. The song eternally playing in his ears was getting louder, now carrying along in a minor key, thirsting. He'd almost waited too long, this time.
But he didn't want anyone else to die by his hands without his own damned knowledge - and he'd never forgive himself for that poor bard's demise, not even if he lived a thousand years. So here they were, ready, willing, and able to do the Underdark a bit of good by proxy; and if they came away a little bit wealthier than before, all the better.
Tav glanced up when Ea emerged beside him once more, automatically working the battle lines in his head based on her report. "Assume two more," he directed curtly. "At least two." Almost by accident, his blades appeared in his hands, both gleaming scimitars nearly trembling in anticipation. He tilted his head, saying then, "Find your spot. Make it a good one. Keep them off my flanks."
There is something impossibly attractive about a person who knows how to handle a sharp blade - and Ea Lowkey, tadpole carrier and owner of approximately twelve daggers (on her person, at any given time) would know about that - so the glint of Tav's scimitars steal her attention for a moment.
But honestly, she should get it together. It's the two of them against a group of duergar - who probably have a few tricks up their sleeves too - so she has to stay sharp.
About as sharp as Tav's scimitars.
"You got it," she says about a second off-beat, "I'll watch your flanks." A flash of a grin, before she takes a step backwards, turns on her heel and sneaks back to the rooftop she scouted from before.
The duergar didn't know what hit them. Several disappeared with only a surprised gurgle to mark their passing, and then all hells broke loose on the catwalk above. Two screeching dark dwarves tumbled from the rotten rope bridge, landing on the unforgiving ground below with sickening splats. They were followed by a manically grinning half-drow, descending lightly as a feather and flowing right back into motion, blades flashing through the dim air as they sang their sanguine songs.
Above, the duergar wizard screamed a harsh spell and the cadavers littering the lakeshore began to rattle, moan, and then rise, providing even more fodder for the eager drow to eradicate. No stranger to battle tactics, Tav kept his back to the stone, allowing none to get behind the swing of his scimitars. His sharp ears caught the telltale twang of Ea's bow above the cacophony, and his grin sharpened; they were going to leave such a mess.
A reasonable mess - Ea likes looting the way someone who's grown up on the streets, pickpocketing the wealthy fops, loves people with pockets; you have to leave them in somewhat of a single piece if you intend to use their loot, she's found.
The dagger she bartered for in the heart of Rosymorn monastery stays at her hip, its jagged edges not stained with blood this time, not while her arrows do the trick.
It's not a fast battle, and it's violent - but Tavarion is as efficient, if nothing else, as he is thirsting for violence.
The promise of a fuck is far at the back of her mind now; she lets herself fall into the violence until it sings a little in her veins as well.
Up on her rooftop, she picks out the dwarves on the beach, hiding before taking them out one by one - three don't ever make it as far up as Tav is, fighting the leaders on the scaffolding above.
She does notice the movement from the corner of her eyes, a shimmer in the air that's a telltale of someone using invisibility to sneak around, and replaces the bow for her daggers.
At some point, one of the duergar - a wizard? - comes out of invisibility behind Tav, ready to drop some spell that takes him out of commission - Sleep? Maybe?
Only that's when Ea jumps down on him, dagger first.
The cacophony behind him caught his attention and Tav whirled, grin spreading wide to see Ea atop one of the duergar, methodically stabbing the dark dwarf until he stopped twitching. Finding more amusement in the entire scenario than was probably normal, Tav couldn't help but grin down at his tiefling companion, even going so far as to reverse one of his long blades and offer that hand beneath her elbow, assisting her back to her feet.
"Many thanks, sweetheart," the drow drawled, a hot, manic glint in his glowing blue eyes, and he hesitated not a bit to lean down for a torrid, sizzling kiss. Not even the screech of a nearby threat pulled him away; he merely extended his other hand, palm open, and greeted the howling duergar with a face full of fire, successfully halting the dwarf's advance.
Only when he'd taken his current fill of Ea's spicy mouth did Tavarian lift his head, still grinning like a devil. Retrieving his weapons, he glanced about, unfazed by all of the carnage strewn across the lakeshore. "Hm..." Absently wiping a scimitar on a bit of cloth he'd picked up from one of the dead, Tav strolled through the corpses, gazing over their handiwork.
There are times when, undeniably, she enjoys thr kill; usually in the middle of it, past the point of being pragmatic about flanking and strategic with her arrows, when the moral code of her enemies ceases to be a thing that matters and she focuses on how fucking good she is at this. Also, usually, when the rest of her companions are bloodied and at their limit and she's evaded every hit, her black leather armor pristine and in one piece; her ego rears its ugly head, looks around the battlefield, and goes damn, I'm good.
Jumping on the duergar and taking them out of combat in what feels like six seconds (give or take) fills her with satisfaction. Glancing up, seeing Tav's sharp gaze on her, fills her with something else.
She remembers grabbing his wrist to pull herself up, and then the press of teeth against hers, tongues meeting, gods being mentally invoked because -
Gods. Gods.
For all that she's used to this, to sex and finding one (or many) eager partner to take to bed without the need for commitments beyond a night (or hours) of pleasure, she's never been kissed in the fucking middle of a battle.
So thoroughly. So well. She has to respect the balls on the guy, claiming her mouth in a kiss while enemies are still breathing.
There's a flare of heat she feels on her closed eyes, signalling a spell; a final foe screams and falls, and then silence.
She opens her eyes when Tav withdraws from her mouth, in time to see a thin line of spit from her lower lip to his.
"Fuck - " breathed out. She swallows a knot in her throat. "Oh, you are trouble." With a capital T. She might start calling him Trouble instead of Tav - tieflings and their virtue names, right?
She looks beyond his shoulder at the three-levels battlefield, and nods. "Think you turned that one into juice. Hot."
The lakeshore was littered with the dead. Colors of murder gleamed in the flickering torchlight, were reflected off the lake's black surface. Tav strolled through the carnage, feeling oddly...better. Satisfied. The smell of blood and worse stained the air, weighted the odd little breeze that still dared swath through the scaffolding. Brave element, that.
Still, it would be good to report this to the Sovereign. Tav oddly found that he liked the myconids; they were a simple people just trying to survive in their underground environment. They were generally peaceful, though their way of handling threats was damned effective. And he respected the Sovereign. No doubt the myconid leader would be pleased with his and Ea's little "outing" here.
Hearing her beind him, Tav turned, sheathing his long blades as he did so, and meandered back towards his tiefling companion, feigning a look of hurt outrage. "'Trouble'?" he echoed, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "That's just hurtful." But there was a glint in ice-blue eyes as he said it, followed by a sly little wink.
Then he gestured to the dead. "Think they'll have anything worth the taking?"
"Any loot is worth taking," she points out simply. Life lessons from Ea Lowkey - when you're trading every bauble for one loaf of bread, you're going to care that you didn't take that figurine out of a guild member's pocket; it'll be what gets you butter, or water.
She doesn't go into the how and the why of her experience with lock picking and pickpocketing, not with these guys and not in general. On a rather large island nation, four weeks on a ship away from Baldur's Gate, are the remnants of the guilds that witnessed Ea grow up into the thief, spy, and assassin she is now.
As far as her newfound group is concerned, she has never gone hungry, she has never been dirty and alone and brought low.
Her lips still tingle in the aftermath of the kiss, but looting is a distraction she's familiar with and going to take. It's what he offered, after all.
She crouches down by the duergar she turned into a pincushion, picks up his dagger. Looks up at Tav to wave it idly in the air.
"See? This'll get you something even with the myconids - I think Blurg will take it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2025-06-04 07:43 am (UTC)Astarion doesn't know her well enough, but he's already decided that she's some goody-two-shoes for wanting to prevent druids from murdering a child. Shadowheart has kept a lot of secrets close to heart, but she still let a disapproving frown slip when Ea offered to help Lae'Zel. And Lae'Zel...
Well, anyway.
Out of everyone she's been stuck with on this journey, Tav at least doesn't operate under delusions of how Ea is. At her core, she'll circumnavigate rules to suit her, or people she might care about.
This request, from the myconids and from Thula alike, is an easy one to accept; she's good at killing, and at spotting a possible looting and trading opportunity. (Finding the herbalist's lost husband, on the other hand? She'll lend a hand if she spots him, but he's a grown dwarf and should be able to fend for himself down here. Besides, his wife warned her she'd offer no reward for recovering the man, so...)
There comes a point where she slips out of the camp while the others are busy sniping at each other verbally, subtle as a shadow.
To find Tav is not difficult, despite the half-drow inheritance - maybe she has a magnet tucked deep that guides her to where he is.
She's brought both her bow and the daggers, for whatever may come out of this.
"Well, then," is the murmured greeting. "Let me scout ahead so we can see how many people we're dealing with?"
no subject
Date: 2025-06-04 10:21 pm (UTC)"Does it matter? We're going to kill them all." While he normally did go for as much reconnaissance as possible, sending Astarion and Ea to suss out whatever place they were about to decimate, this time Tav didn't think it very relevant. The two of them together were more than capable of handling a battalion of dark dwarves, should there even be so many congregated in one place.
And if they were, they were fucking idiots, the entire lot.
"But I won't stop you if you're absolutely itching to check." He waved a hand towards the lake's chasm, a faintly indulging smile ghosting around his mouth.
no subject
Date: 2025-06-06 09:54 pm (UTC)"But thank you, very kind." With a wink, she pulls the hood of her cloak up to cover the pastel bright hair (her colouring has always been a nuisance as a young criminal; keeps being one, even as she's gotten older) and dashes on ahead.
Charisma might be her lowest point, and who knows how she's managed to stick with her present company for so long, but the stealth is unparalleled.
Even Astarion doesn't have it this good. Not that she ever feels in competition with Astarion for being two rogues in a group. This is fine.
As she approaches the beach she finds the first rooftop and climbs it, sneaking from one decrepit building to the next, keeping an eye out for the dwarves.
A touch of magic - minor illusion on the beach - brings about five of them out, with orders barked from another three from the building under her to stop dilly-dallying.
She feels confident about her and Tavvarion's odds now.
So she slips away, blend into the shadows, and manifests herself back at his side at the top of the slope.
"Seven are certain, maybe more. I've found a good spot to take them out with arrows. So if the itch is for a confrontation before you rain whatever violence it is on them, let me at least get up there first and be of help watching your back."
holy hells we have POWER again! storm season just SUCKS, ugh
Date: 2025-06-16 10:44 pm (UTC)But he didn't want anyone else to die by his hands without his own damned knowledge - and he'd never forgive himself for that poor bard's demise, not even if he lived a thousand years. So here they were, ready, willing, and able to do the Underdark a bit of good by proxy; and if they came away a little bit wealthier than before, all the better.
Tav glanced up when Ea emerged beside him once more, automatically working the battle lines in his head based on her report. "Assume two more," he directed curtly. "At least two." Almost by accident, his blades appeared in his hands, both gleaming scimitars nearly trembling in anticipation. He tilted his head, saying then, "Find your spot. Make it a good one. Keep them off my flanks."
hey WELCOME BACK!! i will have my fingers crossed for you if storm season's still there
Date: 2025-06-20 02:01 pm (UTC)But honestly, she should get it together. It's the two of them against a group of duergar - who probably have a few tricks up their sleeves too - so she has to stay sharp.
About as sharp as Tav's scimitars.
"You got it," she says about a second off-beat, "I'll watch your flanks." A flash of a grin, before she takes a step backwards, turns on her heel and sneaks back to the rooftop she scouted from before.
dw did not give me this. but TY! and yeah, it'll be storm season until about nov ugh
Date: 2025-07-03 12:38 am (UTC)Above, the duergar wizard screamed a harsh spell and the cadavers littering the lakeshore began to rattle, moan, and then rise, providing even more fodder for the eager drow to eradicate. No stranger to battle tactics, Tav kept his back to the stone, allowing none to get behind the swing of his scimitars. His sharp ears caught the telltale twang of Ea's bow above the cacophony, and his grin sharpened; they were going to leave such a mess.
i was away for work for a week so this is a reward
Date: 2025-07-06 05:43 pm (UTC)The dagger she bartered for in the heart of Rosymorn monastery stays at her hip, its jagged edges not stained with blood this time, not while her arrows do the trick.
It's not a fast battle, and it's violent - but Tavarion is as efficient, if nothing else, as he is thirsting for violence.
The promise of a fuck is far at the back of her mind now; she lets herself fall into the violence until it sings a little in her veins as well.
Up on her rooftop, she picks out the dwarves on the beach, hiding before taking them out one by one - three don't ever make it as far up as Tav is, fighting the leaders on the scaffolding above.
She does notice the movement from the corner of her eyes, a shimmer in the air that's a telltale of someone using invisibility to sneak around, and replaces the bow for her daggers.
At some point, one of the duergar - a wizard? - comes out of invisibility behind Tav, ready to drop some spell that takes him out of commission - Sleep? Maybe?
Only that's when Ea jumps down on him, dagger first.
❤️🔥
Date: 2025-07-12 12:02 am (UTC)"Many thanks, sweetheart," the drow drawled, a hot, manic glint in his glowing blue eyes, and he hesitated not a bit to lean down for a torrid, sizzling kiss. Not even the screech of a nearby threat pulled him away; he merely extended his other hand, palm open, and greeted the howling duergar with a face full of fire, successfully halting the dwarf's advance.
Only when he'd taken his current fill of Ea's spicy mouth did Tavarian lift his head, still grinning like a devil. Retrieving his weapons, he glanced about, unfazed by all of the carnage strewn across the lakeshore. "Hm..." Absently wiping a scimitar on a bit of cloth he'd picked up from one of the dead, Tav strolled through the corpses, gazing over their handiwork.
"Looks to be all of them, yeah?"
🗡️🫀
Date: 2025-07-12 11:52 am (UTC)Jumping on the duergar and taking them out of combat in what feels like six seconds (give or take) fills her with satisfaction. Glancing up, seeing Tav's sharp gaze on her, fills her with something else.
She remembers grabbing his wrist to pull herself up, and then the press of teeth against hers, tongues meeting, gods being mentally invoked because -
Gods. Gods.
For all that she's used to this, to sex and finding one (or many) eager partner to take to bed without the need for commitments beyond a night (or hours) of pleasure, she's never been kissed in the fucking middle of a battle.
So thoroughly. So well. She has to respect the balls on the guy, claiming her mouth in a kiss while enemies are still breathing.
There's a flare of heat she feels on her closed eyes, signalling a spell; a final foe screams and falls, and then silence.
She opens her eyes when Tav withdraws from her mouth, in time to see a thin line of spit from her lower lip to his.
"Fuck - " breathed out. She swallows a knot in her throat. "Oh, you are trouble." With a capital T. She might start calling him Trouble instead of Tav - tieflings and their virtue names, right?
She looks beyond his shoulder at the three-levels battlefield, and nods. "Think you turned that one into juice. Hot."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-19 02:55 am (UTC)Still, it would be good to report this to the Sovereign. Tav oddly found that he liked the myconids; they were a simple people just trying to survive in their underground environment. They were generally peaceful, though their way of handling threats was damned effective. And he respected the Sovereign. No doubt the myconid leader would be pleased with his and Ea's little "outing" here.
Hearing her beind him, Tav turned, sheathing his long blades as he did so, and meandered back towards his tiefling companion, feigning a look of hurt outrage. "'Trouble'?" he echoed, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "That's just hurtful." But there was a glint in ice-blue eyes as he said it, followed by a sly little wink.
Then he gestured to the dead. "Think they'll have anything worth the taking?"
no subject
Date: 2025-07-19 06:51 am (UTC)She doesn't go into the how and the why of her experience with lock picking and pickpocketing, not with these guys and not in general. On a rather large island nation, four weeks on a ship away from Baldur's Gate, are the remnants of the guilds that witnessed Ea grow up into the thief, spy, and assassin she is now.
As far as her newfound group is concerned, she has never gone hungry, she has never been dirty and alone and brought low.
Her lips still tingle in the aftermath of the kiss, but looting is a distraction she's familiar with and going to take. It's what he offered, after all.
She crouches down by the duergar she turned into a pincushion, picks up his dagger. Looks up at Tav to wave it idly in the air.
"See? This'll get you something even with the myconids - I think Blurg will take it."