Miirszyx's Mind Maps

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wurdpass
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Miirszyx's Mind Maps

Unread post by wurdpass » Sat Sep 15, 2018 6:01 pm

Disclaimer:
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Please don't metagame my journals to keep track of or "guess" things about my character.

All opinions and retellings are Miirszyx's own, not his players.

Full bio approved on Sept 13, 2018 by DM Mercy. Thanks DMs!
Background:

Once a student of magic showing some promise, the petulant Miirszyx grew bored and got mixed up with the wrong crowd through a black sheep, ne'er do well cousin. Getting caught up in his cousin's mistakes got Miirszyx abducted and in very grave danger.

Miirzyx struck a desperate deal with a strange figure that appears to him in his captivity, resulting in his freedom and to his surprise a newfound good fortune and influence with others.

Initially brushing off the stipulations of the deal he had made, the figure quickly and unhappily reasserted itself into his life and made its expectations of duty more clear.

Now dispatched to Sshamath by the hard-to-read entity, Miirszyx mixes freely and happily with its locals, buying drinks and slapping backs.


Appearance:
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Slight and undersized for a drow, Miirszyx is possessed of a wan, fragile beauty that has a disarming effect on those around him.

High cheekbones frame an angular face and white eyes. Miirszyx's pupils are a white coloration common to some Drow, and this only adds to his somewhat strange but enchanting appearance.

In social settings, Miirszyx is an eager conversationalist, leaning in to listen and otherwise expressing his words through physical gestures.

His head is completely bald and his long pointed ears can afford him a somewhat bat like appearance, particularly from certain angles or in darkened lighting.

In combat he makes use of chainmail armor, but in social situations he dresses himself in fine and expensive but inconspicuous clothing.
(( First mind map TBD ))

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wurdpass
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Re: Miirszyx's Mind Maps

Unread post by wurdpass » Thu Nov 01, 2018 12:49 am

A lone figure reclines lazily by the river running through Rockrun Pass. His head and shoulders propped up on a large round rock, Miirszyx sketches idly with a small quill on a large sheet of parchment.

In the center of the page he outlines a small, bald drow figure lying as one might be positioned before a funeral, arms crossed in an "X" shape across his chest. Little attention is spent on the personage itself, the artist barely finishing details such as the figure's fingers and leaving it without a face.

The artist seems much more interested in his careful illustrations of the figure's outfit. A large cloak drapes its shoulders, adorned around the collar with small feathers. A pair of boots adorn his feet, a lone toe poking through a hole in the left shoe. Other accoutrements are added, from memory? - a circlet framing the figure's pointed ears, bracers upon its wrists.

Satisfied with the sketch of the male Drow, Miirszyx outlines it in a coffin shaped hexagon. Flanking the 'coffin' Miirszyx draws two sets of wings on each side - a pair that may have come from a skeletal dragon, and another more reminiscent of the wings of bats.

Now Miirszyx moves to the right of the coffin to an empty section of the parchment. He draws a squat, armored figure in profile, wearing a large visored helmet and walking away from the coffin up what must be a steep incline. Above the figures head he draws a floating, abstracted head with what seems to be three faces, one looking directly out of the page and the other two, connected at their cheeks, flanking it and staring out to the sides.

Further "uphill" from the walking, armored figure he sketches a female Drow, comically well endowed and framed with a lion-like mane of hair. She stands tall and proud holding a piece of parchment and pen while at her feet he fills in several more sillhouettes, lying prone with limbs askew, likely dead. Carefully he reproduces the standing Drow females hair and rough facial features so that although each corpse's body is distinct, each wears the same face as the standing female.

Above the three-faced head he now illustrates a spider, larger than any figure he's put to the paper thus far. Before the ink of the spider can dry he smudges it with his thumb, blurring the creatures outline. A string of web descends from the spider towards the three-faced head, ending a little above the head with what looks like a fishing hook.

Miirszyx repositions the parchment and begins drawing to the left of the coffin. He sketches series of surface trees, approximating a dense forest. Behind some of the trees he draws small wings, half visible, peaking out at odd angles.

Turning his attention to the space above the forest he sketches a large dragon, as long as the forest is wide. The body, wings and tail of the dragon are decent approximations but rather than a snout, the dragons nose comes to a series of tentacles, akin to an illithid.

The majority of the parchment now filled in, Miirszyx returns to the Drow male within the coffin. He adds a face to the figure, however in reverse with an upside down mouth where the forehead should be, and upside down eyes on the cheeks. He lets out a sing-song chuckle at these last details and stands up, holding the parchment at arms length to better view it in total.

In a quick motion he claps his hands together, crumpling the parchment into a tight ball. Taking the ball in his left hand he underhands it high into the air over the river before him. Watching the parchment balls flight, he holds out his left palm and follows its trajectory. Muttering an incantation he shoots an acidic burst of eldricht energy from this hand, vaporizing the parchment in midair.

Drawing a thin longsword from the sheathe on his belt, Miirszyx slinks back into the shadows of Rockrun, returning to whatever business it is that he conducts.

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wurdpass
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Re: Miirszyx's Mind Maps

Unread post by wurdpass » Fri Jan 18, 2019 2:48 pm

Miirszyx lies on on the floor of a cramped, bookshelf lined room with sketchpad and quill in hand. Beneath him a makeshift carpet of manuscripts and books cover the floor messily. Arrayed around him are eight gold coins, although one of them seems to have been melted to only a quarter of its size.

In the middle of his page Miirszyx draws a large rectangle, illustrating spikes pointing inward from its lined edges. Within this box he doodles various signifiers of carnage and bloodshed - weapons, corpses, explosions and fighting and dying stickfigures of all shapes and sizes.

With this space filled he moves to below the box, where he sketches in a long row of mushrooms along his page's bottom edge. Above the mushrooms he rapidly dots his quill along the page, creating a long border of what appear to be spores rising upwards.

On the left side of the page, bordering on the central box he illustrates a large black orchid and on the other side a shiv of similar proportions. On each side he denotes several more symbols: an alchemical beaker, a humanoid stick figure sillhouetted by the outline of a much larger figure, two shields, two bows notched with arrows, skulls abound. A web grows between the symbols on each side with tendrils reaching out - but being interrupted - by the carnage between.

The majority of the page now filled with inked symbols and illustrations, Miirszyx moves to the top of the page. Here, at the center top of the page he sketches an oval, twice as tall as it is wide. With this shape drawn, Miirszyx pauses for a second to tear the page from the sketchbook and then holds the page away from his eyes to view it from different distances.

Dissatisfied, he smudges the still wet ink of the oval with his thumb and stands up from the floor. Moving to the one wall in the cramped room not covered in bookshelfs, Miirszyx removes a dart from a pack at his side and stabs it through the sketch into the wall, hanging it there. Then he paces the length of the room muttering an invocation to himself before turning. Raising his hands, he blasts acid energy at the hung sketch, vaporizing it instantly.

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wurdpass
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Re: Miirszyx's Mind Maps

Unread post by wurdpass » Thu May 09, 2019 2:40 pm

Miirszyx sits cross-legged with his back to the wall facing his ramshackle room at the Winding Way castle in Soubar. From amongst his affects he unfurls a large piece of parchment and takes up a small quill.

In the bottom left of the page he sketches two small, armed figures postures set forward against the empty page. To their right his quill marks out small, misshapen figures. Half-drawn, missing limb and likely life, they grow in numbers along the bottom edge of the page, reaching up towards the feet of the travelers.

Above these half-sketched corpses he illustrates a series of musical notes, as if footprints for the travelers to follow. The notes meander about the page, curling like smoke until they come to rest near its center, approaching from below. Where they end he illustrates a small rectangle and within the rectangle a poorly drawn tree on one side, and a more aptly detailed cave on the right.

Around the smaller landscape picture he illustrates two large, boned wings the likes of which only a dragon could likely be expected to maneuver. Satisfied with the wings he pauses to inspect his work.

After a careful review, the small drow's quill begins working feverishly again. Whereas before his lines had been narrow and precise now the ink welled and smudged as if by design. In the upper right corner of his parchment, untouched by the the trail of musical notes, he began to ink in a cave's entrance, similar in design to that in the smaller landscape he drew earlier.

Unlike this depiction, however, he seemed to be attempting to map out the labyrinthine schematics within the cave. However, owing to the amassing ink and circuitous nature of illustration, the cave did not seem to operate under ordinary laws of logic. Miir's eyes narrowed as he attempted this depiction, working hard, as if perhaps trying to illustrate something from a dream.

Sighing at the blackened, illogical mass in the upper right his parchment Miir turned his attentions to his left. Here, with the same sloppy pensmanship, two entwined figures seemed to abstractly emerge from the page with several limbs, tails and horns seeming to fill in around two entwined blobs.

Above this last illustration he drew two eyes. For these, a precision returned to his quill-strokes, as if he was more sure about how these eyes looked. Memorable they surely must have been as Miirszyx took great care along the outline of the eyes to capture their burning, overwhelming rage with. Within the eyes however, he nearly pours ink onto the page in order to craft as black a mark in each eye as possible.

Blowing on the ink, he holds his completed illustration before him at arms length, squinting at it and moving it in different orientations as if to gather different perspectives. After some time fruitlessly scowling at his drawing, a rap comes at the door of his meager chambers.

Gracefully the small drow rises to his feet and pulls his hood up from his shoulders. "A moment please." Giving the parchment one last look he crumples it into a small ball between his hands. Muttering eerily to himself he raises his hands to his face, paper clapped between them, and blows into it. The paper seems to evaporate, swirling into a shadowy smoke that rises above Miir and dissipates around the room and he crosses the room to open the door.

"Ah, how consistent you are," he greets his visitor, welcoming him into the room in a vainly accented Common. "In a land stricken by such terrible diseases of the psyche, I do find your dependability so reassuring. A discussion for another time, unfortunately, as at the present I must be so bold as to inquire after a small favor. You see: I am looking for a cave."

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