#Veris

[starr-n-art]

Veris my beloved bard. I just think changelings are neat

[shewhowalksthehiddenpath]

The Plantfather

'"...You come into my house on the day my tulip bulbs are to be buried."

Could not resist. The ask about the high school usernames was way too good to pass up!

Kat is my character, Keith belongs to @dualityvn

[fromthebun]

Doodles of my Tav Veris ✨ Bhaal-Brat ✨

[smulnsander]

Veris jumpscare!!!

(It/They/He)

[thedecoy-if]

??? wants mc dead?? count me in. i like it when an ro likes to kill mc 😊 haha. And also short fuse priest???! Could just imagine C shoving down holy water to thirsty mc's throat

Lol Poor MC--they're an innocent bystander stuck with having to deal with all of S's assassins and enemies just because of the face they were born with.

Ceris would definitely be tempted to do it (especially to Vale).

[bijkas]

"Guided magic; Veris feeling the stolen essence returning to the forest, a moment of time in green."

a sweet moment from a ttrpg I'm still thinking about days later

[underfiends]

Yes, Your Majesty

Killing Time short story numero 3. DMed by me, played by @hannrenn and @peppermintpinklemonade. Features royal corruption, betrayal, and a semi-public execution. Enjoy!

“Can I get a ‘Yes, your Majesty’?” There is a sultry lilt to the voice, and yet there is no amusement glinting in those eyes.

There is a knight kneeling at the base of blue carpeted steps. He shakes so violently that his steel armour clatters together, informing all who watch the man’s fear. A terrified visage attempts to plead. Cold indifference gazes back atop a throne of stone and silver. There will be no mercy here.

“Y-Yes, your Maje-jes-es-”

“I bore of your gibbering. You have broken oath. What say you of this claim?” The King rests his cheek upon his closed fist, smiling gently as he waits for the knight to gather his thoughts.

“I swear! I have been loyal. Never would I betray my kingdom.” The knight bows his head, dark hair falling about his face. He grips his grounded helm tightly in gauntleted fists, fighting the urge to close his eyes. A threat is much more terrifying when it cannot be seen.

“This is your truth?” When he is given a nod, the King beckons someone forward from behind his throne. “I see. Would you be so kind as to tell my informant that he is lying, then?”

The knight freezes. It is as though his lungs have barred themselves, preventing any air from entering. His blood turns to ice, paling his face so fully he goes from prussian to azure. The image before him swims. Perhaps the arrival has conjured water in the throne room? No, the King would never allow that, and the Wizard would not dare upset the King.

No one dares upset the King.

He sucks in a lungful of air so suddenly his fingers begin to tingle. Is this another spell? He is sure that the Wizard is privy to magic he has never heard of. A kind of suffocation spell, perhaps.

The King turns to his companion, eyes going soft and fingers coming out to brush against soft albrecht blue robes. The Wizard grins, a corner of his mouth curling into a smirk a moment later. His hand is placed upon the King’s shoulder as he leans forward and presses a kiss to his brow.

“Suilad, muindor.” The Wizard casts a glance to the kneeling knight, disdain exuding from him in waves. “Why is this traitor still breathing?”

“Why mellon, you cannot expect me to execute him without a trial. That would be unbecoming of me. I am quite partial to fairness. So,” His eyes snap to the guard, who flinches under his scrutiny. “It is only fair that my informant give his side of the story.

The Wizard straightens, his hands clasping together behind his back. Bare feet glide across carpeted steps until he stands before the accused. Eyes harder than steel, a fury so deep it could reach across the world; this man would sooner kill the knight himself than allow him to so much as stand.

“While performing a routine scrying check, I intercepted a transmission from another orb. Being me,” He pressed a hand to his chest, grinning smugly at the King, “I cast a simple enchantment to allow me to see through the orb without revealing myself. What I saw shocked me greatly. For there stood our very own knight, one who stands before the chambers of my King. There he stood, speaking to our enemy. There he stood.”

A sharp clang makes the knight jump and spin around.

Or, he would have, could he move. His limbs were weighted down by unseen shackles. Not so much as his head could move. He was forced to stare up at the Wizard in horror, unable to look at his approaching demise. For all know what happens to traitors.

The King crosses his legs and pouts. “You are taking too long. My Paladin, show our audience what will happen to them should they follow in this knight’s footsteps.”

There is a grunt. Right behind the knight. The scrape of steel against stone; the straining of leather as arms raise. A whistle in the air.

A head rolls to a stop by the Wizard’s feet. He looks back at his King, a silent question passing between them. The King waves a hand, and so he crouches down to pluck a strand of hair from the dead knight’s head. He slips the silver knife from the knight’s sheath. After a brief inspection of the blade, he brings it down viciously on the knight’s jaw. There is a sickening pop as the bone is popped out. Blood squelches over the skin as it is cut. The wizard drops the now bloodied knife and rises with his prize in hand.

A chuckle has him turning to grin up at his Paladin. “Come virdulq, we must accompany our King to tea. I do believe the Princess is waiting.” He looks down at the mess in the Wizard’s hands. “You may not bring your jaw to tea.”

The Wizard groans, throwing his head back even as he turns and follows his King and Paladin to the doors.

“But vyir, I worked so hard for this! I must show the Princess. It was her idea, after all. Now I can…” His voice trails off, too far now for the knights and servants to hear.

They stare in abject horror at the corpse. Blood soaks the carpet, turning it black. Red spatters steel armour, creating a grotesque portrait for them to view as long as they wish. Though they do not doubt that if the King were to return to a bloodied throne room, his right and left hands would have many more subjects to kill. The Wizard would have more jaws to add to his collection.

Even with this threat hanging over them, they cannot move. They can only stare, only watch as the blood stops flowing from the knight's served neck. They can only look in morbid curiosity at the steel helmet that had been placed at the knight’s feet when he had first knelt before the throne.

It is perfectly clean.

[peppermintpinklemonade]

Timelapse of this screencap redraw of some dudes from the killing time dnd campaign I have with fellow PC @hannrenn and DM @underfiends

I use procreate which includes undos and redos in the timelapses so you can see how long it takes me sometimes to get things right as a relatively beginner artist which I think is cool!

Soveliss the white haired drow belongs to me, mandus the tiefling belongs to hannrenn, and Veris the shorter haired drow belongs to underfiends.

[phantom-shell]

Big fan of Dipper "if I ever see you again outside of my nightmares, there is no force in the universe that will stop me from putting you in the ground" Pines

[bitchfitch]

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[starr-n-art]

"I'm just saying, darling-"

Veris (they/them) my changeling bard 💜

[shewhowalksthehiddenpath]

It's a little out of date, but the ask about pillow forts was too cute not to draw! I love the rainy day cozy fort vibes.

Kat is my character, Tenebris belongs to @dualityvn

[andisupreme]

At the company retreat, one extremely drunk girl asked what my pronouns were. (Eventually, it took her a while to word the question.) After the whole conversation was done, she goes- "YEAHHH GURL, Get on with--with THY bad self! See what I did?? They/them/thy."

I was almost holding back tears from trying not to laugh as I told her yes that's great you nailed it honey. Thank you very much I am feeling the love.

Anyway I've been assigned Thee/Thine at Supportive Drunk Girl

[morggo]

I Will Not Apologize

Happy Pride, ya'll.

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[great-and-small]

I was walking on a rather remote beach when I came upon this Whip eel drying up in the sun. These are intertidal eels that can actually handle themselves out of water for a bit, but it’s not normal for them to be fully exposed in direct sunlight like this. The tide was at least six hours from coming in and I felt like this eel was in distress, so I made the decision to dig him out and return to the ocean. His body was too delicate to be simply pulled from the hole without injury, so I got to digging.

This endeavor took about 40 minutes as the eel was quite long and difficult to excavate. Also had to continually refill my temporary eel pond to keep him from drying out entirely while I worked.

If you are an eel aficionado like myself, please enjoy this silly little video of the relocation process set to some jaunty royalty-free disco music.