#librettodraws

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He’s just happy to be here!

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A little friendly(?) monster creeps from the shadows...

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The Myths of The Hunted Few: THE AUTHOR

“We uphold what was long ago kindled; A burning hope that one day, people may walk the rolling countryside of Idune once more, unfettered by the fears of the dark we have come to live with.”  -The Hunter’s Mantle; volume I, foreword

Each creed in history has its beginnings. Of all the faiths and orders of Idune that were created since the beginning of man, The Hunter’s Mantle is the strangest of all. Its origin is far romanticized from the truth, and the de facto founder is long gone.

The Author is named as such for what he did. He wrote about the Darkness. Indeed, he was among the first few to fight it with full force. He scrawled down his days hunting in the wilderness. These were the early days, when the Darkness was still advancing and the terror unleashed was still very fresh. He wrote at length and documented the habits and behaviors of dozens of beasts, and his own pointers for how best to slay them. Through reading it, you could learn that the Author was an old farmer. So old, that his favored weapons were his Sickle and Awl, as broadswords were too heavy, and his eyesight too feeble for bows. His motivations for why he started this crusade of the damned is unknown, but that doesn’t mean the youngest of hunters haven’t supplemented their own fantasies and myths as exposition.

Today, the Journal has been rewritten so many times it is now unrecognizable. In fact, it is the most pored-over piece of literature in all the remaining kingdoms of man. Though The Hunter’s Mantle is more of a kinship in shambles, this book has almost become a holy scripture. The Author, like some demigod sent from elsewhere to deliver inspiration and the lust for battle to the hearts and minds of young folk everywhere. The Author indeed, is the shining light in the Darkness.

Though in truth, perhaps he had just grown tired of it.

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part of an art trade with @halinicsart (who has pretty cool OCs, check em out!), with their OC “Phen”! Had quite a bit of fun getting the dynamics down in this piece! Hal said that she possesses dolls and is an elegant ghostie creature of sorts, so I just kinda rolled with that

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Myths of The Hunted Few: WALL KING GEIR

“Our Stoic King and Lord has provided the people of Idune with security in mortality, for he is our light in the suffocating dark, the shining beacon in the vitrioiline depths of nightmarish natures.”

-Cleric’s Guild Scripture, The Wall King

Wall King Geir, the young nobleman who usurped the throne during the earlier years of The Emergence, denying the birthright from Tor’s kin. It was he who ordered the heightening of the walls of Tor’s Claim. He was responsible for the flourishing of the Cleric’s Guild. To a lesser extent, it was also he who enabled the formation of The Hunter’s Mantle, if only through lack of compassion for his people in outlying duchies.

 The commoners and peasants all over carry a bitterness in their heart for their King, but none moreso than the Mason’s Guild. Denied compensation and threatened with exile for treachery, they were put to work. Blood and sweat spilled on those ashen stones, with only the fear of the encroaching darkness to carry them on in their work.

Despite all the bitter wills and the angry young men who raise their hammers at the King, he remains. Some suspect stubbornness, others suspect darker arts. 30 years have passed since his ascension and coronation, and during that time not one person has gazed upon his face. Some jest that he is merely a suit of armor driven by passionate ambition, and that Ansen Geir died long ago.

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This piece was part of an art trade with @josephtlart ! The prompt was Creature + Ambush.

Check out Joe’s art!! It’s some super charming stuff!

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Myths of The Hunted Few: THE ATONED

“Death is the beginning of the journey, not the fateful destination.”

-Kveiric Proverb

In the tainted groves where darker fey creatures linger, strange stone constructs stand in stoic congregation. They are inscribed with a runic script, incomprehensible even to learned scholars, and their natures are ever more mired in obscurity.

As the wind blows through these evil woods, the twisted and eroded stone on these figures howls in a peculiar way, almost as if crying in pained sorrow. The most curious feature of these figures is how they manage to stay bound together. Villages have been built and razed while these ramshackle effigies stood intact in the dangerous woods. In the groves where they are gathered, some say that occasionally another appears.   No one person is brave enough to stay the night however, fearing it to be cursed. The likeness towards the impious Craven is palpable.

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Myths of The Hunted Few: GLUK

“The Dogs of Destiny are a capricious sort, hounding those who wish to fight their preordained fates. In most cultures, they are icons of fortune, and of doom.”

-The Traveler’s Bestiary

Of the many creatures that emerge from those forsaken mists along the Breach, the Gluk are of the more unpredictable sort. They are delicately intertwined with the ethereal fates of men, as if they were messengers of the divine...

But their actions insist otherwise. They are among the rare few creatures of the Darkness that frequently slip past the borders of the Frontier into far-flung provinces, such as Sveir or Jolland, sometimes even appearing within the walls of Tor’s Claim itself!

What is their motive in all this? These creatures themselves do not let on as to their intent. It’s common lore that great fortune is brought by a Gluk watching over the fortunate person in question, but the Gluk also hunt folk who have seen their own destiny, by ritual or revelation. 

Their curious collar that sits round their neck seems to betray them, showing skilled loreseekers a Gluk’s current mood. If the stone collar has swiveled around so that the prongs face up, their jaw cannot open. As such, it is a common icon of luck, with Gluk Collars painted in areas with much misfortune, in the hopes that it may lift the heinous curse that has tainted the land.

Of course, when the prongs of the collar face down, the Gluk’s maw is unhindered, and its appetite is piqued. Should you see a Gluk in this manner, prepare for an abrupt and savage fight.