Painting fun + story - Jivundus

The resin figure I decided to feature is from Loot-Studio’s October 2020’s An Expedition to the Underworld pack.

My husband knows about my love (and fascination) with drows, so he bought this pack specifically with me in mind. To say I was giddy is an understatement.

This figure is from the Enemies section. Drow warrior male. I had to decide which of my drow characters he would fit. Jivundus immediately came to mind. Some colors I had to improvise.

The next problem I faced was deciding which of the three writing pieces to put up on the blog. Two of the three are rewritten. So, by default, I chose the first one.

 

The revised snippet. I was told the revamped version is much better. Please forgive any grammar or other errors. Again, if you wish to see the older version ask.

Valsharen studied the door before him. It lacked the gaudy ornamentation the Horde Matrons favored. Slate grey and plain, the opposite of its owner. He chuffed out a breath and rapped his gloved knuckles against its surface.

“In!” A commanding voice barked.

He pushed the door open enough to permit his bulk through. His armor clanked, heralding his presence in the sparse room.

Quarth-sargh’s leader sat in a backless chair. A thin boy attended him, fitting a gray and black breastplate to his torso.

“Welcome, my abbil!” Rich brown eyes warmed in congenial welcome.

Valsharen felt the boy’s curious scrutiny. He turned enough to regard the waif. Vaguely, he recalled when Jivundus found him. And where...

Dark green eyes peeked through dirty and unkempt hair, little else of his face showed. He judged the boy to be somewhere around eleven or twelve, around the age when his grandmother sent him to Sargh Academy.

The boy’s fingers brushed back Jivundus’ hair to finish buckling the armor into place. “Finished, master,” he announced and stepped back, averting his gaze to the ground.

But not before Valsharen caught the reverence in those young eyes.

“Good lad,” Jivundus praised. He motioned to the door with his chin. “Go fetch me a bottle of Deathsting. Then go eat. First-General Valsharen and I have business to discuss.”

The boy bobbed his head. Valsharen noticed green-blue streaks in the boy’s hair. “As you command, master.” He padded to the door, his bare feet making barely a sound, and slipped out.

Valsharen waited until the door clicked shut. “You kept the boy.” He worded it as a statement. “And what is this ‘master’ business?”

Jivundus’ thin lips curled up into a smirk. “Wanre feels beholden to me for saving him from those soul-sucking parasites.”

He could not refute the man’s claim. The Horde matrons used boys like Wanre for fodder or sacrificial offerings to Nhilyl.

Jivundus nearly fell into that world, he remembered. However, his charismatic demeanor and his tactician mind saved him from that fate.

“Besides,” Jivundus continued and rose up from the stool, “he is better off with us.”

“This decision has nothing to do with a certain scarred Second-General?” Valsharen asked point-blank. “Word through the ranks is that she favors him.”

Jivundus’ body stilled at the mention of Sarol. He snorted in derision before heading towards his bed. “Favor him?” He scoffed as he picked up his vambraces. “The woman has already started training him in warfare.”

Valsharen kept his face blank. He could hear the man’s one-sided infatuation in his words.

“Before long, she will be giving him a proper drow name,” Jivundus groused, jamming his right wrist into a forearm guard.

“Careful, abbil,” Valsharen cautioned, his red eyes leveling on his friend and commander. “You are starting to sound like one of those fathers up on the surface.”

Jivundus sent him a baleful glare. “No matter,” he dismissed with a casual flick of his hand. “I have already decided to send Wanre top-side. I have a friend there who would look after him.”

Valsharen frowned. He knew his commander periodically smuggled drow and half-drows to the surface.

“Which brings us to the reason I called you here.” He returned to business. “You will be accompanying Wanre there and staying. She has been asking for competent fighters. However, I can only afford to send you.”