Ifryn Macier

So we’ve been on hiatus here for a bit at Black Wednesday’s trying to locate the last few interviewees for you before my job here comes most literally to an end.

It should be perhaps be no surprise then that the most recent bedraggled thing we managed to convince to visit our studios is one severely diseased vampire. I’d say our scouts were scraping the bottom of the barrel with this one but Ifryn Macier is a stubborn old geezer who they have been trying to persuade since our doors opened. 

Ifryn, like most of his species, is of ord origin. This is mostly due to the fact that the vampire species germinated from ords and vampires fare best when they feed on similar blood types. Vampires sired from other species such as fae or anthropomorphs tend to die younger unless they feed upon those of their origin species. Worse still, some insist on drinking sugar-water and thus sentence themselves to a slow and painful death, dying as young as 50 which is a considerable markdown from the extended lifespan these beings are meant to have.

A reasonable height then for an ord at 5ft 6in tall Ifryn is still the most horrible mess of a vampire. He is 137 years old and wow it really shows. Put in stark comparison to Eyzith who is 150 and still fresh-faced you can tell how much his ills have ravaged his body. His sunken face, hollowed eyes and accompanying scowl however say more about him than his sickness because as it happens Ifryn really is a grumpy old git. 

Speaking to him it is clear that he dislikes everything and everyone. The epitome of a nasty and nosy neighbour, your business is his business and you’d better keep out of his affairs. A haggard limping and outwardly offensive individual in all ways it’s difficult to even hold a conversation with him. He gripes and snipes at every possible opportunity and generally makes it impossible to communicate. Yes Ifryn hates you and us and life and the universe. We tire quickly of trying to ask him questions, for someone so elderly he appears sapped of any wisdom.

His sickened state has no doubt left him vulnerable and likely angry; that is understandable. That said we get the feeling that he’d probably be the same awful person even if his skin were not slightly sloughing from his bones.

Alongside Eyzith, Emmus and Dro’Zar, Ifryn is one of the few remaining old vampires who recall the now obsolete way of siring and raising their kind; an outdated, well documented and draconian method for selecting children to join the species which has since perished. Due to its brutality it is hardly surprising to learn that the old system was replaced. 

This extreme method for choosing new vampires technically didn’t exist when Ifryn was born as an ord and certainly was not meant to be in use by the time he was sired. Of course, the practice was still being illegally used at the time of Ifryn’s siring, and to this day there are reports of similar set-ups occurring outside of organised society. But then maintenance of population control for a society such as that of the vampires has never been an easy thing to micro-manage.

Ifryn is then both blessed and cursed by his illness. In one respect he has become a bitter, withering old man far sooner than he should for a member of his species, in the other he has been granted immunity from their laws of population control which means he doesn’t have to pass any tests to validate the reasons he should be allowed to keep living. Incapable of breeding they are quite happy to let the man live out the remainder of his days in whatever agony the sickness brings, how nice of them.

Rae Iys

A wise and twinkly-eyed old welkin Rae is a fae who has seen her share of magic and expanded her expertise well beyond normal. She trickles energy, much in the same way Dirzryn affected the electrics of our studio when he visited, so the lights tick in uncertainty when Rae enters.

Standing at 4ft 10in she is at the upper end of height for her species but by no means tall. Externally she better epitomises our expectations of what a welkin should look like than previous interviewee Karyf. Rae has tortoiseshell wings, atypically brightly coloured butterfly wings are what we think of when we think welkin and after all, the erroneous dubbing of them as flower fairies came about for this very reason. Equally, Rae has long flowing golden curls and as a younger woman, we imagine she glowed with the kind of radiance and sparkle we inherently associate with anything bearing the name fairy.

That said Rae confesses she tidied up her hair for this interview. She relates that her curls are usually tangled with twigs and assortment of bracken and flowers, not because she puts them there but because Rae loves nature and rambling. She is the kind of woman who goes blackberry picking and forgets to wash because it takes time away from turning those blackberries into pies. Yes, Rae likes her food; she loves to cook and loves alchemy. Turning ingredients into remedies appeals greatly to this master mage, if medicine can be made from any plant she makes it.

For a woman of so many years Rae is still quite beautiful. She is 110 she tells us, cheeky little liar we know she is actually 121 according to the in-link database. The difference in energy, the pressure of her presented presence to that of a man like Dirzryn is quite stark. Her energy is calm and clean. The ‘magic’ she brings almost feels like new light. Yet we are wary, one such as Arian could cast an illusion like this, a sense of serenity and calm that isn’t there. Thus, we are cautious of her claims.

However, after speaking with Rae for some time we become more convinced of the energy she lets us see. The power of serenity and calm she exudes is intentional but as she informs us, it is also an extension of what she feels most deeply. She tells us that she is a lover of people and has a heart brimming with compassion. Even as a wiser and aged woman, she maintains a great love for others and feels no bitterness to those that are misguided. She tells us she does not judge the youth; their inexperience cannot be a point of judgement. She considers herself the hand that turns faults aside and she wishes to draw others in to her peaceable way of thinking. At the same time, she rather humorously rants, ‘harmony is bullshit, harmony is a song of notes that string together and people don’t do that!’

So we had to question, ‘what do they do?’

‘They argue,’ Rae laughs, ‘they debate and conjecture and if they are lucky they enjoy it. I am not here to refute anyone just teach what I know. If you want peace, you will find it. Same if you want war. You will find what you seek no matter what it is.’

So we goadingly question, ‘if we seek vengeance and wrath and a bath full of blood?’

‘Yes you will find it, but if you go looking for stupid more stupid will find you. Better to look for some good in this world because all similar things propel towards one another.’

Fair enough.

This might go some way to explaining why she trained Dirzryn when he was a younger man. Despite the fact Rae is a follower of Evyn she has no gripe in training any student so long as they adhere to a few basic rules of magic usage. To Rae it matters not what religion of belief a person has, particularly with magic, all she wants from her pupils is respect for the discipline.

Since we are quite curious how a powerful follower of Evyn ended up tutoring a powerful follower of Luk we have to wonder, ‘who has more power?’

‘We each specialise in different things,’ Rae elucidates, ‘elemental magic mostly. I simply teach what I know and how to use it, how it is used however is up to the student.’

We nod in false understanding because there aren’t any magic users in our studio so we can’t pass comment.

‘Dirzryn was an excellent student actually,’ she informs us, ‘not polite I don’t suppose,’ she laughs, ‘but he understood the rules then and despite his choices still uses them now.’

‘Ah I see,’ a few of the studio members profess. Actually, none of us see anything at all because we don’t have the slightest idea about magic or the rules or anything Rae is talking about.

Rae slight smiles at our inept admission and we confess if we thought we were out of depth with terrifying mind twisting people or spiders we were naïve, truly we came unstuck here.

Rae’s old face wrinkles, she has a very pleasant presence we cannot deny but the nervous among us are on edge with such an intense magical energy filling the room.

Rae does not have any empathic abilities; she cannot affect our feelings or thoughts directly. She does however possess record-breaking elemental magic abilities, we know she could freeze us where we sit in seconds, or worse flame us. Actually, after some debate we can’t conclude whether being frozen or burnt would be worse. The conversation is a little debunked and default however because good old Rae doesn’t have a bad bone in her body, she’d rather bake a pie or three and go walking in the woods than unleash holy hellfire on anyone.

Her sense of serenity stays with us for some time after she leaves. Even if several pens went missing (looking at you Tarene) we almost don’t mind. It feels like we had a clean swim in the sea and the freshest breath of air floated in to our very stale studio space. We keep looking for sparkles of fairy dust. Alas, fae and magic don’t produce sparkles as much as we wish they would.

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

Tarene Nahge

Now imps are one type of Fae we have yet to interview, they are also notoriously difficult to locate. As it happens, we have our very own in-house imp here at Black Wednesday’s so this is our first interview with a staff member.

At 61 years old, Tarene Nahge is just under middle age for an imp and she stands at an average 5ft 1in tall. Her height is actually the only thing we might describe as average about Tarene.

Before being sentenced for major larceny, she dealt in antiquities and precious artefacts. Since imps are considered trustworthy individuals and are revered amongst the fae as nocturnal protectors, you could say Taryn was born with the ideal cover for her crimes.

A reserved yet charming woman, many have made the mistake of assuming that she is introverted or terribly shy. The opposite is closer to the truth; Tarene is highly observant and clever enough to know when to play her cards close to her chest. Smart enough to take a day job and embezzle her cash but like the majority of us here not smart enough to not get caught.

Interesting as Tarene comes from a middle wealth background; her family have never been poor which begs the question why did she choose a life of theft? The answer is simply that she likes the thrill of stealing. She explains the lure, how enticing breaking and entering is, how out-smarting technology and making a clean get away with someone else’s valuables makes her feel alive. Tarene also has a clean set of rules; she loftily affirms that the things she steals have to be of great value. A careful opportunist, she is not a risk taker outside of her ‘job,’ and even then, she plots and treads with caution. She is, as she likes to remind us, ‘no petty crook.’

Handy that her father is a locksmith working for a security company, tinkering with locks and alarm systems is therefore second nature to Tarene.  Her first job was for this same company, a job spanning enough years for her to learn all the tricks and ticks of the security systems they were selling. Shifting to sales was likely the beginning of her career, since those who refused to buy would find their homes broken into shortly after and would immediately call to get security installed.

Knowledge of antiquities came later in Tarene’s life, after meeting a crooked dealer seeking particularly rare items. She would always deliver, so it didn’t take him long to figure she was a thief.  Once clarified, he asked her to get rarer items for the black market and so their lucrative yet illicit business relationship began.

As far as criminals go the length of Tarene’s record is quite impressive if we do say so. She managed to evade capture for a good seven years before they tracked her down and shipped her off to Black Wednesdays like the rest of us.

Tarene is not a lover of material possessions; she never owned a grand house and her coin never went on jewels or lavish goods. She used her profit modestly to keep her family, a saver in fact the majority of it remained tucked away in several accounts. Saved perhaps for the time she might need to make a quick getaway and escape the authorities. Shame for Tarene then that her accounts were located before she was, preventing any great escape she had planned.

Her one self-expenditure over the years has been on her looks. Yes, Tarene is the vain sort, one who proudly plays with her ‘flowing locks,’ daily and spends hours preening in the mirror. In fact, she gets quite offended when we point out that five clumps of hair doesn’t equate to flowing locks. Still, as most imps aren’t blessed with any hair on their heads we can appreciate her pride, in the same way we appreciate stale bread after three days without eating.

Overall Tarene is a quiet soul, not a boisterous persona and one who effectively blends into the backdrop of our offices. You could say we forget she’s there at times but that’s probably because as a doubtlessly intelligent and sneaky individual she’s busy scheming who to steal from next.

So yes, when expensive things go missing in the studio we know who has them.

………….

Editor’s note: After reading her interview, Tarene curtly informed us that she has six clumps of hair not five.

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.

Happy Halloween!

So here's something we never mentioned about Naiad....

Happy Halloween! ^_^

Dhei Rysen

Dhei Rysen is by all accounts not a nice fellow.

Yes whilst Dhei may look like a girl we assure you he is male.

As with most members of his species, the Alary fae he maintains the flawless look of a child although his lusciously long and shiny white blonde hair is clearly the envy of many a woman. Being bird-winged with fair hair and skin those belonging to the Alary species are often mislabelled as angels or angel fairies when in reality the word Alary literally means ‘of or pertaining to wings’ and an angel Dhei certainly is not.

Standing a mere 4ft 8in tall, Dhei is blessed with levitation and has during his 40years of living cultured the unique and dangerous skill of remote empathy. By this, we do not mean he is empathic to anyone, quite the contrary he is one of the few people capable of gaining emotional control over others simply by thinking about doing it.

A dangerous talent indeed, so much so, that those schooled in it are branded by law with the purple sign you can see here stamped on Dhei’s forehead. It is purposefully placed on the forehead, in a large and quite distinctive pattern so that all who meet bearers of this talent know immediately what the person they are speaking to is capable of, unless of course said bearer wears a headscarf, like the one Dhei never normally removes.

Therefore as with Karyf’s interview we feel we must point out that any gushing love we express towards this man is probably a result of his influence and does not reflect the way we here at Black Wednesday’s truly feel.

Now Dhei does possess an odd allure and innocence that defies his true nature, right up to the point where he opens his mouth and a surprisingly deep voice bolts forward to demand, ‘what are you staring at?’ He doesn’t seem satisfied by our artist answering that she has to stare at him in order to sketch him but never utters a word in response. Not quite so much a mystery then when said artist collapses in paralytic fear, that Dhei has taken a disliking to the woman. Thankfully we have relief staff on hand who are, shall we say, not in the least relieved that we called upon them after we carefully explain how Dhei almost hospitalised the first sketch artist he decided he disliked. Lucky for the next illustrator our interviewer is able to keep Dhei’s glacial eyes firmly fixed on the questions at hand.

A sharp character then, Dhei is somewhat severe in his outlook, an openly mean and snide man whose greatest pleasure outside of manipulation appears to be arguing with others. His partner in life and in ‘business’ Karyf Aster fills this need to spit vitriolic words quite succinctly. As the interview progresses, we learn that the two met at a relatively young age and schooled in the separate yet unified disciplines of thought and emotion control. Their families were never close but the two bonded during study in the same way that oil and water like to play with ducks and sand. Their resulting unstable and somewhat sticky emulsion of personalities appears to work by the logic that if they wind each other up far enough things will tick along nicely.

Still we aren’t here to question the logic of their ice and fire type relationship. Although we do feel the need to point out that in translation his name means ‘Dusk Rising’ whilst hers reads, ‘Dawn of the heavens,’ which is almost as clichéd as if their names were day and night. Yet the reason they argue, aside from taking great pleasure in it, appears to be more about the fact they are incredibly similar to one another to the point of grating. Forthright, vicious and self-righteous are all words we used to describe Karyf, words that apply with equal measure to baby-faced Dhei.

Both work in the field as ‘covert specialised operatives’ and as a team have been charged by Lord Luk with dragging around young Naiad on their missions to give her some experience. Tutoring the ditzy damselfly it seems is one subject that Dhei and Karyf agree to be a true chore. In short, they hate having Naiad around. If Nai were more mature she would actually be a logical choice for a teammate, her superior healing skills, strength and physical agility would be of great benefit to the duo; a shame then that Nai apparently has as much brains as Karyf and Dhei have muscle.

Much to the distaste of Karyf and Dhei, we decided to have all three pose together for height comparison, partly as a means to point out how tiny these fae are and partly because we were quietly paranoid that Dhei is making us feel terrified on purpose.

Bearing in mind that Nai herself is only 5ft 3in tall you can see how precisely small and yet perfectly proportioned Karyf is, Dhei on the other hand refused to stand but he’s roughly an inch taller than Karyf so we’re sure you get the idea.

To be fair we’d probably look as miffed as Karyf and Dhei here if we were charged with babysitting a mentally unbalanced half-Fae like Naiad, getting her to stand still and stop drinking all the free wine was challenge enough for the time it took to capture this portrait.