#Uprooted: Dimwits of the Dimwood

[deadstaticolivia]

Idk I got bored

[atlaskingg]

HELLOOOOO doodle page part what is this like 50 idk? featuring the magma i did with a bunch of loa artists hi guys

ft @/limi-lemonade with the tiny booker/grumley doodle

[nickythehickey]

if i had the time or energy rn to relearn animation i’d have animated this

[soleildiddle]

He's stressed 24/7 i just know it

[whomstsnek]

behold, the dimwits of Dimwood

[obsidiancreates]

I will get on my hands and knees and BEG for Booker x Grumley domestic fluff, please, I beg, I NEED more Uprooted content, especially Booker x Grumley!!

"Oh, wow." Grumley looks around their shared cells. "This is the nicest jail we've ever ended up in!"

"Is that a pillow mint?" Booker picks it up and gives it a cautious sniff. "How high are the taxes on these poor bastards? Well, at least it's going to making our stay comfortable."

Booker is inspecting the cell for weak points when he hears Grumley whimper. He turns around to see Grumley trying, in vain, to scratch behind his own ears.

"Whattya doin'? Come here, come here." Booker waves Grumley over and scratches the itch for him, leaving Grumley to sigh in relief. "You know that can't reach that spot."

"You were planning our great escape! I didn't want to bother you!"

"Okay first off, maybe say that first part a little quieter next time. Second, since when does planning something come before making sure you're all set? I'm not the one who volunteers you for kidney puncturing for plans."

"That's true." Grumley points behind his other ear, and Booker switches his focus there. "I'm sorry I couldn't fight off the guards."

"There were like, a hundred of them! You're one pug! If anything Peggy should've used her magic again!"

"The clown mask, right? Not the bottle with the fire?"

"Never again the bottle with the fire, I'm never getting those images out of my head as it is. My point is you're strong and you're brave but you're not our only option for intimidation so don't blame yourself for stuff that can't be helped. Hey, sometimes a con just goes wrong!"

"Thanks, Booker."

"Anytime, Grumley."

"... Can we have a little kiss? They cleaned my face folds before they tossed us in here."

"What is this jail, a spa? Alright, one little kiss then I have to get back to work."

"Okay!"

It's a quick, soft smooch, and it leaves Grumley contentedly laying on his belly on the floor watching Booker with his tail wagging as Booker, blushing, keeps trying to figure a way out of this one.

[alabasterplasterart]

Wooaah, what’s this? A post to my hub blog? Yes it’s true, I finished this for a sketch I did a couple months back, all during the Uprooted season 2 kickoff today from Legends of Avantris!! Don’t ask me what he’s yelling about

[okapi77]

Not sure why I'm uploading this, a sketchbook page filled with goofy Uprooted sketches, out of all my sketchbook pages (with much better sketches too).

For some reason, I felt impressed to post this. Maybe because I never draw fanart anymore. Who knows /\("/)/\

Apologies for the awful photo quality.

[pumpkin-nic]

Youtube music and gaming wrap highlights

I like what I like

[who-do-i-know-this-man-s4]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[avaveevo]

So I have this idea in which the PCs from Once Upon A Witchlight, Stardust Rhapsody, and Uprooted: Dimwits Of The Dimwood had to join forces to stop King Klutzy and his assistant Mistress Mala of the Nine Hells from destroying Avantris. It’s called “Legends of Avantris: Realms Collided”. If anyone wants to contribute to this idea, feel free to.

[atlaskingg]

the boyfriends.....

lil collab i did with @limi-lemonade with a humanized booker and grumley... the sillies ever

[nickythehickey]

yknow back at like episode 5 i thought booker being a bit of an alcoholic was like a running joke, but chat i don't think its a joke anymore i think booker's legitimately just an alcoholic like as a character trait

s2e4 really solidified this for me cus like. listen

basically everything about his dad is proof of possible genetic ties to addiction, despite normally trying to save money he will seek out alcohol even if it means paying extra (eg at the honeycomb inn), he at least tries to drink at any given opportunity esp going into or out of stressful situations (eg at the wartwallow pervert ball/at the foxhole after breaking out of jail), and now after a very depressing argument what does he do but get so wasted he potentially fucks up their whole heist plan

forgive my overanalysis of the funny raccoon bastard but one too many pieces have fallen together for me

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

This is a true Uprooted fact.

It is Bookers favourite pastime

[turquoisemagpie]

Bitsy tells The Truth.

(First drawing of the year, might as well start with the Dimwits of the Dimwood.) :)

[obsidiancreates]

Across The Planes

Skrimm lays down inside of the hollow tree, shivering as he tugs his coat tighter around himself.

Maybe he should've grabbed more before he left. Not like the other goblins ever left much to grab, granted, but he could've tried it. Just because he doesn't like killing as much as everyone else did doesn't mean he's unwilling. He could've grabbed more than a single coat and hat...

He sighs. It's not been exactly what he imagined, striking out from the life he'd known before, looking for something more. He thought his Common was enough to let him get by, but apparently there's more to it than just knowing the words. And people expect people to know how to use those words, and when they don't know it turns to fights, but the fights have expectations too and Skrimm doesn't really understand them yet-

"Fuck everything," he mutters. He understands that usage well enough.

He drifts asleep, somehow, and hopes for it to be dreamless.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skrimm is in the woods. He doesn't recognize these woods. They're dim, musty, strange.

There's a warm fire in front of him.

He sits down and puts his hands to it, sighing. He doesn't question it, why would he?

No-one questions that kind of thing during a dream, and a dream this is.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" A pair of hands even smaller than Skrimm's slaps his wrist. "That's my fire, buddy! Get your own!"

Skrimm looks down. It's a little raccoon dressed- well, not dissimilar to Skrimm.

"Uh." There's a phrase for this, he heard it in the last town he was in- "Finders keepers! Asshole."

"I-! ... You know what, I respect it." The raccoon sits on the other side of the fire. "You look familiar for some reason, do I know you? You're a fucking weird lizard."

"I'm a goblin."

"The hell's a goblin?"

"The hell are you?!"

"I'm a raccoon!"

"A raccoon speaking Common!"

"What is Common?!"

The fire crackles merrily, and for some reason the raccoon is now playing a tune on a banjo. Again, there's no questioning it. Such is the way of dreams.

"So you're out there on your own? ... Can be kinda fun you know. I've got a whole group of idiots I need to look after, and it's a nightmare. Hey, if you ever meet a mouse who doesn't know which was West is, don't let her follow you. Same for a frog with a look of madness in her eyes."

"Uh-huh, sure. Being on my own would be better if I wasn't terrible at it."

"How're you terrible at it?"

"I have to talk to people! And apparently I keep doing it wrong!"

"How? Talking is easy! I talk people into dumb shit all the time! I once talked a drunkard into becoming a five-star chef for a couple hours just to break my friends out of their execution."

"How'd you manage that? I tried to talk a guy into playing Pebble-Under-Cup with me and I got punched!"

"Pebble-Under-Cup?"

"Where you put the pebble under the cup and swap it around with other cups and try to track it."

"D'ya rig those games? You should."

"Obviously. It's the only way I could get out of raiding before."

"Then just lay on a little extra charm! Make them think they've got no shot at losing the game! Really convince them of it, and make sure they're drunk first!"

"Obviously I tried that! They didn't believe me."

"Why not? You've got the voice for conning."

"... You really think so?"

"I know so. Trust me, I've been at this my whole life, and I see potential in you. How'd you do it?"

"Well, uh, I-I went up and I said 'Hey, play this game with me. I lose it every time but I just can't stop trying.'"

"... Yeah, I see where you went wrong. Okay, next time kid-"

"Not a kid."

"-try acting like you're also drunk and way overstate how lucky you feel. Make yourself seem like the hapless idiot, it'll have them eatin' right outta your palms."

"... Alright, worth a shot. Thanks, weird little raccoon man."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skrimm wakes up and remembers very little.

He remembers something warm, some talking, and a new idea.

He stands up, dusts off his hat and coat, and gets moving to the next little town. When he gets there he goes into the bar, snatches an empty mug off of a table, and pretends to be absolutely sloshed as he approaches someone who looks heavy with coin and drink and light on awareness.

Half an hour and many double-or-nothing bets later, he walks out with enough coin to stay at a cheap inn for the night, and actual drinks.

"Maybe I can get by with this." He chuckles to himself and flips a coin. "Who knew all I needed was a decent night's sleep."