#oc: ham

[trucbiduleschouettes]

Ham and blood magic

[Do not use/repost]

[unikhroma]

i was itching to make some OCs for the new chapters so ! here they are :D

all the info about them is in their respective refs! though an additional point of lore i wanna say is that ramb often impersonates ham as his go-to disguise

[servospawn]

[midbyte]

ugh this wip is taking so long

[knighthearts]

ham too i jsut looked at ham and had a hemorrhage i love ham

oh ham?

[pkemeters]

one of my ‘sonas, his name is ham! he’s an alien pretending to be a hospital administration worker, but he was accidentally abandoned by his mothership

[kuuttini-blog]

fast sketch of my dnd oc ham 

[tiefighter]

Prompt: "Who is going to pay for this mess?"

Really, it isn’t their fault. There’s gerblins and kobolds and a whole lot of mess and a fuckin’ dragon, which Tyr is pretty sure is NOBODYS FAULT EVER because who ever makes a dragon a priority to throw into a tavern? Nobody, that’s who. Only the second they walk in there’s a dragon in the tavern. He ducks as a tail goes sweeping over his head, green and black scales glittering in the light of what’s left of the far wall. It’s on fire. Everything’s on fire. Today sucks. 

There’s a barrage of words off to his right, Camilia holding her hand aloft, beard blowing in the wind from the downdraft of stubbly little wings. She’s swearing in something, maybe dwarven but probably infernal as fire leaps from her fingers and arcs towards the dragon, splashing against it’s face. Harmlessly. There’s more screaming, but Tyr’s pretty sure a little bit of that is him. “I am so not paying for this!” He shouts, stumbling back and unhooking the lute from the carrycase on his back, voice bubbling up even as the words catch in his throat. An arrow nicks his cheek and goes straight into the dragon’s eye, the scream so loud it almost breaks the remnants of the ceiling, a stone pillar arcing up and out, holding up what remains of the roof. Urltyrr and Varys, the former with his bow and the latter his staff stand in the doorway, the fire creeping up to their shoes and extinguishing just as quickly with a quick whisper. “FRIEND TYR. I SUGGEST YOU DUCK.” Tyr doesn’t think, just drops and covers himself as Burr, massive, half orc and all armour and sword goes barelling past him and straight into the dragon’s distracted face, an arc of light and pure holy power smashing against scales and sending the creature skidding back, rolling until it comes to a stop. “Why do you always leave nothing for me?” Ham asks, stepping delicately in her full plate armour over a smouldering chair as the dragon wriggles it’s way back up, the stubby wings fluttering helplessly. She’s grace and beauty and sensibly tied up hair as she whirls around, her two handed sword coming down so fast it’s barely a second between when he sees it move and he doesn’t and then there’s-The crunch of something underfoot. Eggshell.“This was NOT OUR FAULT you built your tavern on a DRAGON NEST what in HEL’S BALLS.”