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— Arthur Miller, The Crucible

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Reasons why that character who kicked your whole party's ass all up and down the street that one time you fought them is about as strong as the other player characters when you recruit them later:

Allergy season

Self-conscious about performing alongside others

When you fought them they were, like, really well rested

Pulled a muscle during your battle with them and spends the whole rest of the game recovering

They're been working on their anger management issues lately and really feel like they're making a lot of progress

Their build is so over-optimised for fighting parties of 3–5 nosy adventurers that it's honestly kind of trash against anything else

They were on so many drugs when you fought them, like you would not believe how many drugs they were on

Their soul-devouring demon blade is in the shop having its hilt refurbished

Just not feeling it right now

Union rules

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The moon is for all of us

social media and store You are not allowed to use, copy or trace my art. Thank you.

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“She’s a hundred years old! She’s susceptible to wolves!”

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Do you think strahd von zarovich really has minimum four people in love with him or does the family healthcare plan just have dental and vision

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A Rare Sight

An Ethiopian wolf sits among purple flowers in Ethiopia’s Bale Mountains National Park.

by Axel Gomille

Wildlife Photographer of the Year People’s Choice Award

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a guide on how to enjoy: LEAF 🍂

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Mother's love

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ALSO thinking about minnowmarrow. god

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thinking about my fucked up line of daughters again

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a sluge 😔

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curse of strahd people. very important question

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A sympathetic take on the village priest’s unfortunate son, Doru. He was transformed into a vampire spawn to punish his father and neighbors for daring to bear arms against the Count.

Here, use my art for your home games for free.

Support me. Thank you!

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this hit me like a truck

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intermission ✦ izek + victor

--- ko-fi // creator commentary

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but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.