Fedura Sarayn

Concept credits once more to Dan Johnson - thanks so much for allowing me to do this! ^_^

Fedura is a whore.

Now those are her words and not ours.

A bold admittance from an extremely bold lady it seems almost fitting that our last interviewee is as striking in personality as I myself am. Some might call that statement conceited but like Fedura I prefer to call it a beautiful truth. By species and height she is a 5ft 9” drek elf. Average in height only.

Now I am not forgetting I haven’t introduced myself yet, in fact the co-workers here have been feverishly trying to take my photo and draw or interview me. I took a couple of weeks (sic: months) off sick, since, well, upon my return and this last interview I know my sentence and hence life will end. Dues then, I am dragging the end out.

Back to feisty Fedura…well she certainly knows how to thrust her assets in a delightful manner to anyone who likes breasts and she is more than capable of switching tactic when it comes to conversation. A wily one indeed. We here in the studio still don’t understand her relationship with the very demure Dioxa. We get that opposites sometimes make good matches or foils but Fedura skips locations as much as she does lovers. Dioxa, her faithful friend, is on the other hand, very sullen and the type who would most enjoy being settled and coddled. Since Fedura offers none of those options we are baffled at the pairing. We would understand it more if they were lovers but, contrary to some wishful thinking here they are not. On query of any romantic relationship between the two all staff were greeted with a disgusted snort from Fedura, followed by an acidic glare and a blunt 'No.'

Still Fedura is an open prostitute. We cannot avoid sex in this interview since it is her profession. She laughs at the little colloquialisms we throw at her and then we nervously laugh back. She is far too open for even my liking yet sarcastic and egregious enough to hold my interest rather keenly. 

It came as a bit of a surprise to us to learn that, in addition to her choice of 'paid hobby' as she calls it she's also a somewhat talented mage. Some of us daydreamed if she could combine those interests in the workplace. *ahem*

Having primarily taught herself magic rather than learning it from another it is clear her skills in this area are undisciplined. She tells us she has a tendency to throw all her muscle into a couple of attacks instead of pacing herself through a fight but she considers this as a tactic and an issue of reserves rather than lack of talent. She cites several instances where this overkill saved her life, several of them in colorful language.

During her off-season, a thing we were previously unaware her profession had, Fedura enjoys traveling and exploring, often hiring herself out as a support mage for caravans or travelers. She describes these encounters as uneventful but enjoyable since she loves seeing new places and being out in the wilds of nature.

She recants her most interesting adventures in lewd detail. We learn that she likes to make body jewellery from found trinkets. This led to averted eyes as she stripped to show us her favourite concealed jewels and tattoos. Clothing it seems is optional for Fedura. True she has an interesting set of tattoos, all inked in places I wouldn’t want a needle.

Do not make the mistake of thinking she is two dimensional however, despite a profession that makes the majority of us shoehorn all those that work in it into one narrow-minded category. Fedura is a go-getter. She is striving, and has personal life goals just like everyone else, one’s that have zero to do with her profession.

We asked what her goals were but she was shy to reveal the answer. Only something close to the heart could make such an outward woman shy. In dancing around the question she did spout, ‘well I have some small hopes for the future, just like you.’

 In closing I would say Fedura is an entertaining lady in more ways than you could imagine. I hope the best for her, she might be scathing and scalding but overall she seems genuine and sincere.

Out of all the interviewees I, Mordas, might have a crush on this one. 

A fitting end she is then and a pleasure for my last days.

Sadly I must sign off now and meet my fate.

If our Lord sees fit I may get a new job and write to you readers once more.

If not I hope the artists and I have at least given you some entertainment.

Until next time then dear audience may I bid you farewell.

Happy Holidays! :D 2013

So here’s a snapshot of all our elves in one place (excluding Dirzryn’s three brothers), the party invite cited fancy dress as a requisite with the theme of ‘atypical elves,’ however it seems the interpretation and effort made by various individuals varied greatly.

Christmas Elves

Left to right, top to bottom we have:

Alanor (bottom left, pregnant woman, sitting in left chair)

Dioxa (left, shy lass with piercings and stripy top in front of fireplace)

Orin (left, the lad with bright blonde hair who is stealing a candy cane)

Tor (top left the tall pale blue fellow who is propping up the drunk)

Fedura (top left, the drunk)

Tahl(upper centre, fellow with red hair who is trying to appear interested in the conversation)

Saffron (upper centre, the woman talking AT Tahl)

Lady Vay (right, the woman stood in front of the tree sneering down on everyone)

Mathiaas (right, he’s holding up a glass, almost hidden below Vay)

Riaf (right, the blonde very stoned looking lad on the sofa)

Ungus (centre, the tubby one in the santa hat)

Tomor (centre, the lass who is holding mistletoe and giggling)

Dirzryn (centre, sat on sofa wishing he were anywhere else but here)

Wishing everyone a great festive season and good elf for the new year 

- sorry just couldn’t resist that pun :P

See you all in 2014! :D

Saffron Agir

Well things are starting to wind down here in the Black Wednesday studios; we have interviewed a wide variety of individuals and given an overview of the many identified species of man currently roaming our Aftlands. 

We cite ‘many’ and not ‘all’ the identified species because interviewing one person from every single type of anthropomorph on the planet would be nigh on impossible. Ok so we admit we are stretching the truth because what we’ve actually covered are a handful of ords and most of the species classified as belonging to the ‘mythic,’ genus. Why has it worked out this way? Well let’s just say our gracious lord has a rather rigorous screening process coupled with precisely zero interest in ‘interviewee preservation.’

Still, we’re not finished yet, which I for one am pleased about because it’s highly likely my life will end when this job does.

Thus without further ado we bring you this week’s interviewee, the one species of elf we have yet to sit down and have a natter with, known as the drenma, or as many of them prefer, ‘the original dark elves.’

Not only that but Saffron Agir, or Saffy as she informally prefers, is the appointed representative of her people. That means of course she spends time rubbing stately shoulders with the likes of Eyzith, Dirzryn, and many other highbrow famed and appointed officials. Yes we can hear the excitement bursting from you at that thought, much in the same way our joy echoed, ‘oh another stately important person just like all the other’s we’ve already interviewed? And an elf, you say?’

In the interest of some terrible fate not befalling our beloved Jeff, (who is the office mascot and the only one who listens because he’s a cactus) we decided to bring our brightest and best gritted smiles to the interview room and a fistful of research.

Our research as it happens was utterly pointless because Saffron is a straight lace woman who we can scarce dig up any dark ugly secrets about beyond a few late payments of parking fines and one instance of rent arrears. At the age of 74 and standing at 5ft 8in tall there is simply nothing unusual or untoward about her. A little young to rule some might cite,  but then Saffron’s job consists of dull liaisons, taking notes in dusty board room meetings and repeating speeches constructed by other people as if they were her own words.

‘It’s all about addressing the people,’ she tells us in a silken voice, ‘keeping the politics in balance between those below and the one above and making sure everyone is happy.’ Being representative of her species Saffron acts as a go-between for the lower council members and the highest governing body who finalises decisions on behalf of all elves. Call us jaded but we assume this means coercing people into believing they are happy rather than granting wishes.

That said, Saffron appears to be the genuine article, a genial calm and welcoming woman. A patient listener, measured speaker and balanced thinker, it is almost a tragedy that she has been elevated to a middle spokesperson for her people.

Now the drenma are quite set in their ways but perhaps are the most balanced of their kin. As a culture, they are no-where near as anal as the drow or arrogant as the lofty draern, they like nature sure but not to the point of worshipping it like the dryads or druics and they certainly have no specific penchant for metals like the drek. ‘Of course all of the above are stereotypical over-views of entire groups,’ Saffron is quick to remind us. We consider it slightly ironic then that her goal in life is to bring unity and equality to the people she serves; a sentiment which sounds about as roughly stapled to the back of her hand as it is.

It’s not clear why the drenma consider themselves the ancestors of all other elves, aside from the fact that like all other elves they have an ingrained dislike of their brethren. Yes, all elves think that their version is best and was first and all other elf species can go suck it because they live somewhere else and have funny skin and ears. 

Drenma ears, as you can see have a dual point to the top, they are the second tallest species and always have dark umber skin. Seeing as brown came before dark blue or grey in the rainbow of external muscle-covering organs we can appreciate why the lesser-known drenma consider themselves as precursors to the far-shorter drow. However, there is zero evidence to support this theory and no one is actually sure what relevance or importance it has to anything other than giving elves something else to bicker about.

Dioxa Savryr

Dioxa Savryr is a 30-year-old drek elf, she stands a reasonable 5ft 5in tall and whilst isn’t plump; does carry a little ‘love’ about her midriff. Clearly, a lover of comfort foods she chooses only sweet treats from the free buffet and then nibbles nervously as if uncertain about her choices.

A demure, soft and gentle soul Dioxa introduces herself as ‘Di Goodchild,’ which whilst in literal translation is correct, we later learn isn’t actually a name she uses or even likes. Therefore, like babbling idiots we spend the first part of the interview calling her ‘Di’ only to discover mid-way that she would prefer we use her full name or shorten it to ‘Dio’ instead. When we question why she felt the need to translate and shorten her name to something she dislikes she cowers in embarrassment and answers, ‘most people find it easier, I mean if you find it easier, I just wanted it to be less trouble, it’s easier to say when translated isn’t it? I’m so sorry, really sorry.’ She is then overly apologetic to the point of it being irritating.

Yes, of course it’s easier to pronounce, ‘Goodchild,’ to about of half of our employees, the other half however would find more affinity with her actual name and the elven heritage of ‘Savryr.’ The notion that Dioxa would go to so much trouble to avoid burdening others with her pesky, not-actually-that-difficult-to-pronounce (actual) name speaks more of her ineptness and lack of foresight than her shy nature.

Her intent may have been born from kindness but the outcome proves the precise opposite of her goal, instead of avoiding hassle and confusion we wade headlong into a stinking pile of bafflement and bewilderment whilst she brokenly explains her reasoning. The offence she feared she might have caused is then tripled because we think our interviewee considers us too stupid to pronounce a simple name or too fragile to withstand being corrected if we get something wrong.

This of course both highlights and exacerbates the frailties of Dioxa herself, a timid creature so fearful of making mistakes that they become self-fulfilling prophecies. Her backwards attempts at making other people comfortable and aversion of even the smallest confrontation ultimately end up dropping back in her own lap, confirming her fears as truths and forming a weird repetitive pattern of awkward responses. Dioxa shrinks further and further away from achievement whilst believing that she is pushing forward which we surmise makes as much sense as stepping backwards off a cliff and thinking you will hit the top.

Now the observant amongst you may have noticed that drek elves are grey skinned much like the drow however, their skin tone is usually yellow-gold or silver as opposed to dark purple or blue. Fairer skinned in most cases and markedly taller than the drow, the true species signifier for drek as with all elves is the distinctive shape of their ears. That is if you consider having piercings galore as not distinctive.

Yes the drek love their piercings and body mods much in the same way that the drow are attached to their glyphs. Which in turn means that Dioxa has a lot of honorary achievements stapled to her face. We find this curious particularly for such a young elf, yet this aspect as we soon learn, has little to do with her age and everything to do with her insecurity.

To explain further we must clarify the nature of these markers because there isn’t any rule or regulation that states the drek people must litter themselves with piercings, or in fact have any at all. Unlike the drow who use their glyphs to make details about one another obvious without asking the drek have no such specifics for what each bit of jewellery might mean. Each piece is added as each individual sees fit and the meaning is personal too. There is no requisite for new additions or for them to have any meaning whatsoever. This form of reasoning, or lack thereof, is about as vague and indecisive as Dioxa’s explanations.

With a little research, we discover the only important fact about drek body modifications is that you must have at least one on show. This is because, culturally speaking, it is the norm to receive a piercing to mark important events in one’s life. As such, any drek without punctured skin is suspicious. Worse still, criminals are stripped of jewellery and bare only empty holes in their flesh; they are barred from replacing their precious metals.

That said we learn that those with few epidermal stickpins are not looked down upon and equally those with many are not revered. So why does Dioxa have so many at the tender age of 30? When asked she softly stutters, ‘I like them, they’re important, I think. It’s important to keep traditions, isn’t it, what do you think?’

We conclude it’s like battle armour, or a talking point, something to ease her anxious disposition and help her feel as though she belongs amongst her brethren despite the fact that, like most awkward teens, she currently suspects she will never fit in anywhere. Well it’s either that or fellow comrade and egotist Fedura Sarayn bullied her into getting one every time Fedura triumphed over a new conquest. Her choice of friendship with this Fedura is probably the most questionable aspect of Dioxa’s character but then as Fedura herself is the wily type we suspect she is the one who instigated and controls their ‘friendship,’ and that in most instances it is Fedura who does all of the talking.

We cannot however be too harsh on Dioxa. 

A malleable, vulnerable and easily manipulated girl with the best intentions is not one we can scathe for very long without feeling guilty. As hard-hearted as we appear here at Black Wednesday’s we do reserve an undisclosed soft spot for adorable little creatures and things that make us chime ‘awww’ instead of ‘arghhh.’ Those things are admittedly rare and whilst we dislike sickly sweet individuals, Dioxa is humble and tender enough to make us think about cuddles, kittens and see-through knitted sweaters. Ok, mostly see-through knitted sweaters come to mind but that’s because even the female employees here were a touch too polite to point out that Dioxa’s choice of jumper and vest showed us a lot more than she presumably intended.

'I Couldn't Care Less'

 Well, in view of our editor in chief being somewhat out of action this week we thought we'd send our snoops out to capture a few moments in time from around the Aftlands.

Those who made it back had some interesting tales to tell for sure as well as a few intriguing visual snippets to tickle our eyeballs. Anyways, to cut a long story short here is our digital artist’s rendition of tender Tomor and our dearest Dirzryn, mid-conversation. 

Titled 'I couldn't care less,' we'll let you decide who is doing the talking here:

Xiaz DeVagrant

 

The eldest and shortest of the DeVagrant brothers Xiaz DeVagrant is 101 years old and a sturdy 4ft 9in tall. He’s about average height for a male drow of his years and aged enough to be a respected member of his community without being so old as to be seen as decrepit. 

That said from what we can gather most people do think of Xiaz as a bothersome old fart.

He’s temperamental at the best of times, apparently never smiles and has the marked expression of a man forced to suck down daily on a mouthful of angry fire ants.

I guess if we had to use only one word to describe Xiaz it would be bitter, but seeing as we don’t here’s a few more to explain exactly how bitter the old prune is: in short he is a crabby, caustic, sarcastic, vitriol of a man, who is embittered, austere, sour and resentful of everything and everyone.

Xiaz is the kind of guy who thinks life owes him something for all the hard work he’s put it, he’s done his share and it’s about time he had some recompense for all the toil and sacrifices he’s had to make. He’s also the type of man who doesn’t realise that his sharp, hot-headed and over-bearing nature is the reason most folks don’t like him.

Now Xiaz is certainly hardworking and not a selfish man, he has after all, dedicated his life to caring for his elderly parents, running their meagre business, and supporting his younger brothers. The problem is that he cannot understand that those choices were his to make and that he doesn’t win instant recompense because he chose to live a life of ‘sacrifice’ to others.

His bitterness exacerbates at the mere mention of Dirzryn's existence. Allowing him to rumble irascibly about the ‘easy-life’, he thinks his brother was given, and caw loudly about how unreasonable it is that some illegally born brat should be, ‘showered in riches.’ He also considers it ‘highly unfair’ that Aezlyn grew semi-pampered with an education and was encouraged by their mother to chase after his ‘silly daydreams’ of cultivating alchemic ingredients because none of those things have anything to do with the family farm, business or their heritage.

Which begs the question what would he do with his life if he had this freedom of choice he thinks is so sorely lacking?

His answer; ‘well I certainly wouldn’t go chasing after a bunch of medicinal herbs or waste it on flitting about rubbing elbows in some high and mighty brownnosed aristocracy.’  Which suggests he quite frankly doesn’t have a clue what he would do but can’t see far enough past the end of his shrivelled upturned nose to realise it.

Fair to say then that Xiaz is not fond of change, even slight changes to his daily routine, such as being dragged half-way across the globe for ‘some ridiculous interview,’ as he deems it, though his sturdy voice falters slightly in its conviction as he makes that utterance so we know that he secretly likes the attention. In reality he probably enjoys having the opportunity to wax lyrical about how wronged he has been, to set the record straight about his family’s involvement or lack thereof with the notorious Dirzryn and just generally have a good moan at a group of people who aren’t already sick of listening to his incessant gripes.

A shame then that we can’t repeat some of the colourful language used to describe his feelings towards the young master DeVagrant, nor do we plan to write any more on the subject since we covered it in detail enough when speaking to Aezlyn and Erynai. Which is merely another irksome point for Xiaz no doubt and another thing that casts disparity on being the eldest child, in fact this should tie in nicely to his victimised belief that he is the sole provider, the responsible one continually ignored but forced to hold the family together.

No Xiaz, no one has forced you into this position other than yourself.

The reason your marriage failed is probably because you are an arrogant, militant, narrow-minded and callous man fixated on preserving a non-existent stability instead of interacting with those around you. We here at Black Wednesday’s are in fact astounded that you were ever wed, seeing as not one person here was able to put up with your constant bellyaching for more than twenty minutes at a time. Being so self-involved we are also assured that you didn’t notice the staff slipping away for cigarettes and coffee at regular intervals because that would involve realising that the universe doesn’t revolve around you or depend or your sagacious insights to get its own coffee.

Just for fun, because we can and we know Xiaz in particular will hate this comparison, here’s their four portraits pinned together:

 

Erynai DeVagrant

This week we have the pleasure of interviewing Dirzryn's second eldest brother Erynai DeVagrant. Both of the older brothers were understandably reluctant in coming forward to be interviewed especially considering the fact we automatically dub them ‘Dirzryn’s brothers’ as opposed to sons of the late Dachlyn. 

The poverty-stricken family is after all only famed due to Dirzryn’s ill-favoured birth and rise to power. By all accounts it is thought that Dachlyn’s already lowly name was tarnished from the grave because his wife, Azenai, chose not to abort this fourth child, a boy he didn’t even know existed prior to his passing. Incidentally the entire family should then have been branded with the red mark for such a slur and stripped of their initialled prefix as with criminals. However in this instance the jury was lenient and took pity on the plight of a woman who loved her husband so dearly she could not bear to lose his final son. Siding with Azenai’s plea the courts chose to leave the family name in place and educate Dirzryn to be of better use to society. It was agreed that in this rare instance Dirzryn should continue to live seeing as Dachlyn could provide no more children should one of Azenai’s other boy’s also suffer an untimely death.

Now at 94yrs old and a grand 5ft tall Erynai DeVagrant certainly looks fighting fit and doesn’t appear like he might drop dead any time soon. Despite being overshadowed by a relative poverty and history that would make most men shrink into secluded misery Erynai is a happily married man with two young children. A salt of the earth type of fellow he likes hands on tasks, enjoys teaching his girls about agriculture and the challenge of a hard graft. He defeats daily hardship with an earnest smile and the simple pleasure of home-grown food. 

Now any man with true appetite for life is certainly one we can see eye to eye with! Clearly he enjoys indulging in the produce as much as he enjoys growing it, a facet about him we instantly take a shine to. Although deeming his children young could be considered a misnomer seeing as his girls are 31 and 25 respectively, in actuality anyone under the age of 50 is considered young in drow society.  

Apart from being a little on the rotund side Erynai is at the peak of physical fitness for a drow of his age. He can lift an impressive amount of weight and is apparently renowned for having incredible stamina. The ladies in our office take this opportunity to jest that his wife ‘must be a happy woman,’ to which he responds with hearty naivety, ‘well she does bake the most marvellous pies.’ 

Thankfully Erynai is either too thick-skinned or too thick-headed to care about the ensuing titters. We suspect a little of both. Being an easy-going and straightforward fellow Erynai isn’t the greatest conversationalist but he is undoubtedly a helpful soul who shows great enthusiasm for his work, is passionate about his family, his heritage and life in general. He tells us that, ‘there is nothing better than working up the sweat of the land,’ which due to his given job we assume to mean ‘getting mucky ploughing and planting in the fields.’

He currently co-owns the DeVagrant family farm with his elder brother Xiaz and works long hours as the main manual labourer. Xiaz handles their accounts and sales and has been the primary holder of their land for 78years since their late father Dachlyn passed away. The farmland is small and the plot itself privately owned by a wealthy benefactor but the farm is productive enough to support both families and up until recently also their ‘layabout’ brother Aezlyn.

Being blessed with green fingers as the saying goes, Erynai loves his work. He considers himself very connected to the earth he toils and very much likes to watch things grow, he doesn’t hesitate to exclaim that he ‘would choose being out in the fresh air over reading a book any day.’

Not being a great thinker Erynai likes simplicity, a practical man in all senses, he doesn’t understand anyone who is interested in the arts, magic or other similar ‘non-physical’ pursuits. He thus considers his brother Aezlyn (who is 12 years his younger) as a bit of an airhead, a heel-dragging dreamer who was nothing but deadweight when he lived on their farm.

It should be noted here that neither Xiaz nor Erynai get along very well with their two younger siblings, especially Dirzryn whose easily-found wealth and status proves a particularly sore point of contention. When asked directly about the matter Erynai feigns general disinterest yet his brow piques with ingrained irritation as he grunts, ‘my brother’s business is his own.’ The subject certainly still strikes an exposed nerve. 

As far as we understand this isn’t because Dirzryn has wealth and they do not, but more to do with the shame of not only having a fourth sibling but having a fourth sibling who was notoriously appointed leader in a transparent ploy to appeal to the good-nature of other nations. Which as Erynai clarifies Dirzryn then failed at, because, as Eryn puts it, ‘he shouldn’t have our name, he weren’t raised here with us, not since he was six; he’s always been an upper-class arsehole.’

So it’s fair then for us to say that Erynai thinks his brother was, at best, over-privileged from the start. 

Having previously interviewed both Dirzryn and Aezlyn we can attest that his judgement isn’t entirely unfair. However Erynai can’t see past the end of nose when it comes to those who possess ambitions and ideals beyond supporting their family. We admit we would likely reach a similar conclusion if we had to fight as hard as Erynai just to scrape out a pittance every single day. 

Obviously a patient and meticulous man when it comes to cultivating his land Erynai is not so tolerant when it comes to people. Generally calm and laid-back Erynai displays an equally aggressive and confrontational side when challenged or threatened. He proves to be fairly short-tempered especially when cornered in a disagreement about the way something should be done or said, as we learnt, especially if you get the facts wrong when speaking of his family. True then for us to quip that Erynai is a resolute man, stubborn in his way of life and beliefs and not a fan of sudden change.

From the birth glyphs oh his left arm (not pictured, the artist was lazy and hence won’t be fed this evening) we can tell (after an hour or so flicking through our drow glyphographic guide to decipher them) that Erynai was born in summer, under the moon of a clear May night between 18:00 and 18:59. How any drow can remember the intricacies of all those designs is beyond us, or perhaps they don’t and like ourselves have to scurry home and check their reference books when they really want to know what the other person is all about. It is, if nothing else, a good conversation starter, we’ll give them that.