pocket clown

piri, they/them, ttrpg and blideo blames

[bogarielfrogariel]

hey hi hello this is a pinned post

piri, he/they, ask and messages are open so come say hi if you want

this is a sideblog, main is juspeczyk

sometimes i do art :)

[piosplayhouse]

[sketchingsparrow]

"The people of Faithfall are mighty, proud and loyal, to the very end. Their love of community and goddess bind them together in times of danger and uncertainty. And their leaders will sacrifice all that they possess to ensure the safety of Faithfall and her people."

Here are a few characters from my dnd homebrew world, and beloved npcs of our party. These were originally pencil sketches in my sketchbook and I decided to keep them in black and white to make their designs pop.

[numaras]

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (16/∞)

[drmace]

Poor guy wasn't given any instructions on how to properly interact with a god's daughter x)

[orsinium]

if for no other reason i dont think we need to worry abt bethesda using ai to code tes6 bc i genuinely dont think there's a single ai model out there that could make sense of what bethesda's already crammed under the hood of the creation engine and still write something even partially legible

[ztudiolaire]

200 years of ragebaiting experience led to this point.

[thescrolls-haveforetold]

school is over for 7 weeks i handed in my final assignment im free

[thescrolls-haveforetold]

i wanted to note that Nerevar’s corprus scars litter his arms, not only do those bandages protect him from, like, ashstorms, the weather, the sun, so on but it also covers up something… not shameful? rather something particularly scary about his appearance

[bg3screenshotdump]

Trilli Bumbleroot + Spells

Faerie fire ✧ Song of Rest 

Fey Presence ✧ Hex

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

[gribbo]

The child isn’t lost. All the holy halls are hers—and their ornaments, the long bones all agleam, the friendly polished skulls. Her minders murmur it, eyes down, while combing her lustrous hair. Now that she can walk, she can walk anywhere. None prevent her. None follow. She can even toddle into the dark rooms, where the skulls are on spikes, not in coffers, and still sloughing their stinking faces.

She’s not alone. She isn’t lost. Her small face tightens, then twists up.

Behind the child, the darkness slithers and stirs.

“I see you, sweetmeat,” croaks a voice like a closet of nails. From the dark comes a scrabble; a clank; a long, damp breath like a death-rasp. “I hear your heart-juice.”

The child stills, uncertain, breathing hard. She clutches her best toy, which is bright and sharp and bad to chew. Then she frowns, distracted, at the wet ache in her hand. She’s holding the wrong end again—

Hands like strong spiders snatch her. A huff of crypt-air crawls down the child’s neck. “Shall I bite off your nose, my bodkin?”

The child squeals and squirms, forgetting the pain and the dark. Her tall, laughing shadow disarms her, tosses her toy aside, catches her kicking feet in teeth as sharp as they are familiar.

“My marrow,” croons Bhaal’s spawn, his creature, his dark urge: her hair atangle, her smile all red, her breath rotten and reassuring. Her strangling fingers tickle the child’s sides. “My morsel. My runny redling. I’ll eat you up!”

The child Orin shrieks with delight. Her sister growls, and grins, and nips her nose.

[luciasatalina]

Ménestrel ♬

[kelvnn]

Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard, his treasured daughter Lily Aurora Ravengard, and beloved pet Scratch. Circa. 1498 DR"

My contribution to the BG3 Love & Marriage fanzine! Im honored to have been apart of this zine with so many other skilled artists and writers!

Check out the zine here!

[lady-sapphyre]

[tcustodisart]

In the spirit of me finishing my yet another Kingdom Hearts playthrough and reminding myself that the basic Heartless is called Shadow I give you ShadowHeartless

[fvngus]

Wow, thank god rabies isn't highly contagious :)

[sinderyden]

V. Camp