For this round we have roommate Quirri, timidi and kind (and cats lover!) from the visual novel Salting the Earth vs Ghorza gra-Bagoli, orc blacksmith and marriage option from Skyrim!
Tournament tag (all polls) here
Round 1
Quirri
Ghorza gra-Bagoli

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from China
seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from Singapore
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
For this round we have roommate Quirri, timidi and kind (and cats lover!) from the visual novel Salting the Earth vs Ghorza gra-Bagoli, orc blacksmith and marriage option from Skyrim!
Tournament tag (all polls) here
Round 1
Quirri
Ghorza gra-Bagoli
DnD scribbles from 2020
I felt like drawing some Orcs, so here are some Orcs!
Sir Mazoga the Knight, Urag gro-Shub the librarian, Balagog gro-Nolob the Gourmet, and Ghorza gra-Bagol the smith~
ah i havent posted art on here in awhile... so here is a height comparison for Gargura and her party of half orcs lmao
This is my wonderful orc woman Ghorza! I love her so much 🥰
This piece is a part of a series where I experimented drawing and painting symbols and words, on a less common supports. Special thanks to @tafanoun for offering me a studio to photograph my works, and to @amooddoo for those beautiful shots ! #art #razor #streetart #Ghorza #Madri #FOM #popart https://www.instagram.com/p/Byzt8dzB5lz/?igshid=1zzw681ea7ef
I made a new dnd character so I quickly wrote a tiny scene explaining some of her backstory!
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“Infernal?” The elf asked a small tiefling girl, sat across from her in a tavern. She was young yet, tiny except for the goliath horns that protruded from her head. The music pounded loud, but the girl didn’t seem to mind, humming along to the tune. Her tail swished back and forth to the beat, and in her green dirt-stained fingertips she held a glass of what he hoped was water.
“Not a word.” She replied in common, beginning to swing her legs back and forth. He kept his eyes up once she began that, since her dirty, too-large dress had a large slit cut into the side for her tail to escape from. He wasn’t taking chances.
She thrummed with an odd energy, always tapping her fingers or fidgeting or shifting her weight. The atmosphere from the room seemed to encourage her, the chatter and constant movement of the other patrons making it impossible for her to sit still. Something buzzed under her skin, some form of magic that kept her blood flowing, kept her body twitching even as she slept, but she’d decided that the elf didn’t need to know that.
“Yet you speak fluent orcish.” He leveled her with an uncertain stare, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t doubt her, since she spoke common with an unaccustomed tongue, overaccenting some things and on others cutting the edges too harsh. It was odd though; he’d thought that infernal was in their blood. Yet all she did was nod and mumble a flurry of words, things he didn’t understand but yet were undeniably the rough edges of the language. Even if he hadn’t heard orcish spoken at times before, he’d sat in on his brothers infernal classes. The words she spoke were anything but.
“Raised with ‘em.” She sighed, knocking one of her horns into the wall for what seemed like the thousandth time. They were far too large for her body, and he winced with sympathy as she rubbed the side of her head. “Understanding of it is that my mother was- literally- screwing around with some big fancy magic guy, but had another tiefling off to the side. She had me from her little sideshow, ‘n to cover it up told him it was his. Then he found out her lie ‘n he ganked her. Mom’s orc friend came by later and found her with a hole in her chest clutching a crying baby in her arms, ‘n she took me. Look ‘nough like an orc, she said. The village can suck it ‘cordin to her. Rest is history.” The girl rambled, curious eyes bouncing around the tavern all the while.
“And your name?” He said after he took a moment to process the words, knocking back the last of his drink. It went down like fire, though thankfully it was a fire that he’d felt more than enough times.
“Ghorza.”
A young Ghorza gra-Bagol, first leaving for the Legion.