#doru donavich

[bloodfool]

My beloved Curse of Strahd NPCs!

#curse of strahd #cos #dnd #dungeons and dragons #strahd #strahd von zarovich #rudolph van richten #rahadin #ezmerelda d'avenir #Firan Zal'Honan #Doru Donavich #Escher #Laurie Weathermay-Foxgrove #Gennifer Weathermay-Foxgrove #Ismark #ismark kolyanovich #viktor vallakovich #Argynvost #argynvostholt #npc #dnd npc #azalin rex #SO MANY VAMPIRES #this is like CoS season 2 since the curse has been liftes ONCE but that doesnt stop strahd from coming back #strahd is awake and PISSED #firans smug ass grin is just his costumer face he only smiles for the picture #rahadin has like died 2 times first time he was beheaded second time he was gored... homeboy is tired #argynvost has played a big part in the backstory of one of my players so ofc I needed to draw him too I love him #ismark is a revenant werewolf...

[nkukubean]

They mean everything to me 💛 They have so much potential

#welcometobarovia #ismark kolyanovich #Ismark the lesser #Ismark #Doru #Doru donavich #curse of strahd #dnd #dungeons and dragons #dnd art #dungeons and dragons art #dungeons and dragons artist #dnd artist #horror #fantasy #digital art #art #shipping #vampire #vampire spawn

[froogie-art]

My Curse of Strahd character. Her name is You. I haven’t done much art of her but I’m working on it😅

#dnd art #dnd character #dnd5e #dnd #curse of strahd #strahd von zarovich #doru donavich

[nevermoretoleave]

dead, and dying, and dead again. — on doru donavich.

12.3.21, silas denver melvin / dead air, chvrches / save a prayer, duran duran / icarus, the crane wives / murder song (5, 4, 3, 2, 1), aurora / the lion in winter / space dog, alan shapiro / baldur's gate 3 / @ inkskinned / personal inventory: fearless (temporis fila), kaveh akbar / all the king's horses, karmina / decode, paramore / sunlit lovers, m. j. pearl / a life worthy of our breath, ocean vuong / @ roach-works / is it okay to say this?, trista masteer / courtney love prays to oregon, clementine von radics / fallen debris from the burnt out roof structure sits near the high altar inside notre dame cathedral in paris, christophe morin / @ rbhvleo / rapture, m. j. pearl

#curse of strahd #ravenloft #web weaving #doru #doru donavich #npc: doru donavich. #our doru's gone through Some Stuff and he will continue to go through Some Stuff #but at least he's alive (?) and well (?) #and was sent along with the party to serve as bait for rvr! :) fun! #(feel free to ask how the heck this happened i'm a hair away from spilling all the beans at any given time)

[beetlebabby]

keep forgetting to post this but i'm working on another cos comic! this time about poor little doru

#curse of strahd #cos #dnd art #dnd #dungeons and dragons #strahd von zarovich #doru donavich #my art #comics #dnd5e #blood cw #ask to tag #strahd had a little snack on the way home nothing to see here ^___^

[dndsaga]

Bells of Notre Dame by Alan Menken // Kara Xu (2017-2018) // Maurice Sendak // selkielore on tumblr // The First Mourning, William-Adolphe Bouguereau // Antigone, Jean Anouilh // Santa Lilio Sangre by Ayumi Kojima // My Heart for Yours, Jolene Perry // butchfangss on tumblr

✘ brothers donavich. ( for @niroben101 )

as you die, watch the leaves that go crazy over you: everything loves you, my god-headed brother. say hey, my beautiful brother, your face lifted, holding back the holiness of light?

#doru donavich #curse of strahd #yes i will be playing a brother to doru of all people in an upcoming CoS #niroben101 #* edits. #* lavrentiy. #* torch be yours. #dyn: doru & lavrentiy. #i woke up with violence in my heart

[troubledtimeinravenloft]

Of all the things I would have expected from losing a reborn Vasilkia-v0.5 in barovia having to fake get engaged to doru was not something I expected but hey. Let's go.

#theo #doru #doru donavich #curse of the blood countess

[dexadin]

Players killed Doru. I showed him as a regular guy, just hungry and scared. They tortured and killed him and thought it was funny. I thought that was kind of fucked. Got any fun ideas for payback? I don't like any of these people so anything will work as long as it doesn't violate the Genevieve Conventions or whatever. Love your work btw.

Sorry for taking forever to hop on this; back on that capitalism grindset 🫡

That said, consider the immediate consequences of killing this guy. Does his dad know? In spite of everything, his dad loves Doru. Certainly he wouldn't be thrilled about the party killing his son when he went to such extremem lengths to keep him in the church. Even if Donavich is unable to physically retailiate against the party, his social influence in the village of Barovia is without a doubt going to affect their experience. Barovia sucks to be in when people don't have a vendetta against you, how terrible will it be when people actually want to get their ass?

While most people don't travel the valley, there are some people, mostly potential allies, who do. Perhaps an otherwise nice and kind ally was passing through Barovia when this happened--or someone a bit scary, like Van Richten. While Van Richten would probably be pro-killing Doru on principal, doesn't take the slightest bit of pleasure in it. Doru was in a position like Van Richten's son was, and I don't think he'd take kindly to anyone who thought torturing a scared boy who was turning into a monster was a good thing to do. Van Richten (and Ez, by association) would be a really fun way to shove their morals to the forefront and make the party realize that in world, their actions have explicit consequences without technically doing anything too "mean DM" to them.

On a similar note, a small company called Quests & Chaos has a 'Deck of Un-Inspiration' that you can get through DrivethruRPG which gives you a ton of quick ideas on how to lightly punish your players with mechanics for moments where they really deserve it. Highly recommend.

#genevieve conventions has had me hooting and hollering this whole time tho #dexadin answers #dnd #curse of strahd #strahd spoilers #doru donavich #curse of strahd spoilers #strahd #dm tips

[apricotzel]

wrote something short for my beautiful dnd party in the CoS campaign i run because i wanted to add some depth to doru and father donavich, and also wanted to post it here. if anything contradicts canon its because i forgot or decided to change it my bad. if there are any mistakes please be nice. beware here be spoilers and also a 2nd person pov !!

“Are heroes real?”

There’s a clatter of dishes; a knife slips from your hands and back into the sink, it disappears below the surface.

There’s a pause at the table. Your son sits there, bright-eyed and wondering. He needs a haircut, you think. Maybe spend less time in that watered down sunlight, and he wouldn’t ask silly questions.

You clear your throat, resume the motions. “The Morning Lord is real.”

“And heroes?”

You don’t answer. It could be better like this, better to just ignore and lock away all of foolishness. He’s only young, only a couple handfuls of years, and he’s missing so much in his life. He doesn’t know the sun, and you didn’t either until you had him.

You turn to grab another dish, and he’s there with his eyes that are yours, and he is staring at you.

“Heroes, Father.”

You can’t silence your way out of this one. You put down the knife, dry your hands - pale hands, shaking ones - and grab his face gently.

“There are no heroes, Doru.”

His face doesn’t fall, he grins like he was expecting you to say that. “Is the Morning Lord not a hero?”

“He cannot reach us,” You say gently. You must’ve told this story to him a thousand times, never has his grin wavered. “The curse of the Devil Strahd blocks him. We wait for his return.”

“A hero could bring him back.”

You had trained anger out of yourself years ago under the training of the Morning Lord, under your own father. You open your mouth as if to argue, but your sun continues.

“Have hope, father,” He says. “I could be the hero.”

You know what happens to heroes, you have told him a thousand times, never has he stopped.

“I could protect you,” Your sun insists. “I could banish the Devil.”

You waver, because you love him.

“I could,” He insists.

“Do your reading,” You straighten up, “Stop this nonsense, Doru. You’re too young.”

He opens his mouth as if to argue, but you are a priest, and you know how to control faith in your hands. You reign him in, harsh and gentle like a dog to a post.

He stomps away with perhaps too much attitude than you should allow, but there are dishes to do and prayers to be said.

A service is interrupted by his singing. He does not realize, in the way he never realizes how loud he is. He moves unabashedly through the world, twirling and singing. He would jump on tables if you let him.

You try to carry on with the word. It’s a quiet service today, and those in the pews are familiar with you and Doru. Your voice wavers, caught on a laugh. It’s rusty and scratches out of your throat, you try to hide it, coughing and stammering over the holy text.

Someone in the front row coughs to stop their chuckle. A gentle, sputtering giggle comes from somewhere else.

A waltzing note follows, off-key and hectic. You duck your face, letting the laughter take you. Foreign noises fill the air as the company does the same. Laughing fills the still air and gets lost in the mist. You glance up and catch him standing in the entrance to the chapel, shoulders shaking and a hand barely covering his smile.

Years later, he asks you the same:

“Are heroes real?”

“What?” You ask. You’re doing something, you don’t really have time for this. He sits next to where you lean over his desk, reading his writings on the Morning Lord, gently pointing out flaws and molding it until it makes more sense.

He fidgets with the quill, shoving the feather into your face until you bat it away. It’s his favourite quill, so you do so gently.

“I found a sword,” He starts.

You try not to sigh. He has never wavered.

“And someone to teach you?” You mutter.

He deflates slightly, head lolling back to stare at you. He needs a haircut. He has a faint tan that you don’t. Always running around in the field, through town, through the graveyard, never praying. You worry, as you ought to do.

“I can teach myself,” He says.

You waver, he sees you do it.

“Have hope,” He presses gently.

You shouldn’t look at him. He will only be looking up at you with those eyes that you can never argue with. 

“Hope is for fools,” You say.

“And the pious.”

You give him a disapproving glare, and fall right into his trap. He’s grinning up at you, mischievous and boyish. How does he find the energy to do that? You don’t know. Even at his age you had given up on this land, and so you turned to the gods to hope for some salvation. He seems to be his own God, your own sun.

“There’s a mage in town,” He continues despite your glare.

You frown. “Many mages come through here.” They all die.

“This one is different,” He insists, because he is young and you had never let him meet the mages that would later die.

Instead, you sigh. Run a pale, shaking hand through his too-long hair and settle it on his shoulder. “Don’t be foolish, Doru. There is a reason no one here has hope.”

He reaches up and clasps your hand, strong as iron at first and then it settles light as dust; you try not to think of a dying breath, how every ghost up on Castle Ravenloft fought until it was over. 

“Please, Father,” He looks at you, imploring. You stare at the mirrors in his skull, and waver. “I could do it. I would make sure that nothing could hurt you ever again. Not a devil, nor vampire, nor zombie, nor hag. You wanted a God and I am your son. Have faith in me.”

He is the brightest thing in this valley, and you vow to never let the curse that suffocates it harm him.

“I forbid it,” Gently, like a prayer.

His face darkens like a cloud passed over it. Without a word he lets go of your hand. You expect him to charge off, to yell, to do anything, but he just turns back to his work. This worries you more than anything.

Later that evening, you pray that the entire world will become weaker because you know you cannot be strong.

He knows more songs than you do, and you’re not sure where he learned them. They echo from his room to yours, out his open window, down the valley like he’s a siren. Even when he is quiet, his voice haunts the house. Always under his breath, songs of love and victory. Of sorrow and a life lived to its fullest. 

You stand outside his door now, hearing him hum and dance, bumping into things and swearing under his breath. Always a pause after every curse where he sends a brief prayer for forgiveness, you can see him without seeing him, the way his body freezes in realization and his eyes flit to the ceiling as his hands fumble to put themselves in the right position.

You knock on the door gently, and a second later it swings open. He smiles seeing you, as if he hasn’t in a while. His hair is wild, brushing his shoulder and sticking to his face, eyes bright. 

It’s not his birthday, it’s not a holiday. There’s no reason for you to unveil a curved dagger from underneath your robes and present it to him. It’s beautiful, even you know, and you are not versed in metals or blood. Wrapped around the hilt and falling down to the pommel is a chain adorned with beads and the symbol of the Morning Lord.

He looks as if you had just given him the world, and takes it with a gentleness usually reserved for children. As if in a trance, he walks over to his window to look at it better. The shine of the metal dances across his face.

He looks over at you, you who are still standing in his doorway like an unwanted fiend that can’t cross, you bathed in shadow, you the priest.

“Why?” He asks with an unsure laugh, like he is waiting for you to snatch it back.

“I don’t want you to use it,” You clarify immediately, “Look at me, Doru. It is not for you to charge to battle with. I just- I want you to know. That the Morning Lord will protect you.” Softer, “I will protect you.”

He turns to stare at you as if lost, light weakly haloing his hair and casting his face in darkness.

“Nothing will hurt you,” You scramble for the words. “I won’t let it happen to you. What happens to those people - the heroes - it won’t happen to you. Not while I’m here. I asked for a God and I got a son. I won’t lose you, too.”

Your sun’s hand reaches up, shaking, as if to grab you. Your own hand twitches at your side, but does not go forth. He grabs his own shoulder and turns back towards the light.

“Thank you,” He says, and his voice is thick and breaking at the edges. You wonder, briefly, how heavy it is to hope. You wouldn’t know.

You nod, and go to retreat. He opens his mouth as if to say something, inhaling sharply and leaving the room breathless.

You waver, because you love him.

His gaze trails down to the dagger in his grasp, shaking hand to meet it like you grab onto the rosary, and you feel like he isn’t yours anymore and hasn’t been in a very long time. He needs a haircut, and you love him.

The door creaks when you shut it.

The door to your room is locked and there is a man in your church. You do not know what is happening and you are afraid of it. They are taking away your son.

That’s not right.

The door to your room is blocked and there is a man in your home. You do not know what is happening and you are afraid of it. Your son is letting himself be taken away.

You wish, briefly, you had spent less time praying and more time swinging swords like he did. As it is now, all you can do is claw at the wood and at the door handle. You kick, feel the jarring follow up your knee and it aches like everything. You were not built to handle such tragedy as the one you were born into, you are just a priest.

“Doru,” You screech again and again and again, and you can imagine blood from the inside of your throat trickling down and choking you with how much it hurts. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

You are just a priest, and all you know is how to beg for someone to listen to you.

Your window lays broken, but people wait outside of it with threatening stances and weapons they grab tighter every time you walk closer.

You hear his voice from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry,” He says again and again and again, and you can imagine him with his hand laid flat against the door, wincing everytime you ram your body into it. Head laid sorrowfully on the wood like this hurts him more than it hurts you. “I have to. I must fight.”

You scream, guttural and wordless, and slam into the door again. You have never felt fear so potent. All hero stories end the same in Barovia.

Suddenly the fear leaves you, and you quiet down, hands laid flat against the wood.

“Listen to me, Doru,” You whisper, because all secrets must be whispered, “I love you. You can’t do this. Do you hear me? Please, they have enough people. They don’t need you. Stay here. Let me out.”

He pauses, as if his resolve flutters.

“I have to do this,” He says. You scream once again, but he pays no mind. “I have to have hope. We must have hope. If only you could see that is what the valley needs.”

You know what the valley needs. It is not another dead child.

“I’m sorry, Father,” He says, and his voice wavers, because he loves you. It breaks right down the middle. “I’m so sorry.”

You beg, plead, and scream. To him, to the Morning Lord, to Mother Night. To the other gods, those you do not believe in but are desperate enough to try.

“I’ll be home soon,” He whispers, and it is almost drowned out.

His footsteps retreat from the door, and you slide down it, on the floor. Your breath comes quickly, gasping, choking. You think you might vomit, or your heart might stop, or you might just stop existing then and there.

You can see him running down the hill to the army, led by the mage. Your fingers wrap around shattered glass. You cannot cry out, but you do not look away until the mists that surround Castle Ravenloft swallow him whole.

He is sent home by the Devil himself. Your son, your beautiful son who has never hurt anyone. You put the key where no one else will find it, and begin to pray. Your mind unravels, and in the darkness, the frayed edges of his reach out to it, and meet.

#curse of strahd #cos #doru #father donavich #teddie be quiet! #who up writhing over family #for extra context in my game i've aged doru down to 16 #because i thought he was for some reason for the longest time #my boy :( his son :( HIS SUN :(

[costhursdays]

Chiaroscuro and Alexir both checked in with one another to make sure that they weren't the only one who heard the sound of the man screaming, and as they confirmed this with one another, they checked in to make sure if Cash or Nick had responded to the sound. Seeing that neither of them did, and Kenshi was too far away to have heard it as well, they snuck away as Father Donovich had been tending to further rites. Chiaroscuro looked over the wall to peek into the Church, seeing the insides slightly, but no movement. Turning to Alexir behind him, they both decided the only way to figure out where the noise was coming from was to go inside.

The front of the Church was not locked, and upon opening the double doors, both their eyes shot open wide. The sight of the chapel was horrifying, shreds of paper, straw, cloth, wood all about the room. Nothing was intact, not a single pew, not a single book, nothing. The sight of the destroyed Holy Place sent both Alexir and Chiaroscuro into fits, Alexir babbling incoherently and Chiaro bent over weeping uncontrollably, all while more screaming came from the depths of the Church building in front of them.

The rest of the party, Ireena, Ismark, and Father Donovich in tow, as the sermon had finished and Ireena was starting to prepare herself to head out, came forward after this breach within the church. Nick slowly tried to calm Alexir, Chiaro, and now Cash who had also gone into a state of Paralysis after hearing the screaming, while Kenshi interrogated Father Donovich about the incessant screaming. Finally, he broke, and the truth was revealed.

The Father's son, Doru, had went missing roughly a little over a year ago, when a magician from the mountains came down to rally the townsfolk to fight Strahd. He had left to head into Ravenloft, never to be seen again... Except he was, a month ago. Laying on the front of the Church one night was Doru's half living body. The Father could tell he had been turned and to keep him, and everyone around him safe, he had kept Doru locked in the basement of the Church. It was after this that people tore the place apart, mortified that the Father would Desecrate the land with a still living Vampire in their home. Many townsfolk avoided the Church after that.

Father Donovich had no willpower to kill his own son. He was but a simple man, not a fighter, and was not able to do much on his own. He mentally, nor physically, could have finished his son off. Kenshi looked down upon Donovich, who had fallen over and was wailing on the ground, nigh on as loud as his own son was below them, and forced him up and talked him into coming down to the basement with them to face Doru and "ask him some questions".

As they were prepping to go down into the basement, Kenshi told Donavich that allowing this creature to stay alive was desecrating the sanctity of the Church, and thusly, the Hallowed Ground outside where they had just buried Kolyan's body. He then began to intimidate him, by trying to get him to do the proper thing and allow them to finish Doru off. Donovich, however, caught a breath and dug deep within himself to stand at his full height and inform Kenshi that no man, woman, child, or other was going to come into his home and demand that he kill his own flesh and blood.

A brief moment of struggle to get the trap door downstairs to the basement open, and Donovich led the group to the basement; its cold, damp, and darkened display showing the gaunt, starving form of Donovich's beloved son, Doru. Doru hissed and hid as much as he could whispering soft words of hate and how he could smell the party and their blood flowing. Donavich approached him to try and get him to calm down and discuss things but as soon as Donavich got within range of him, Doru pounced and bit down deep into his father. The rest of the party had little time to prepare for such a vicious display, watching in horror as the pale face of Father Donavich was drained of his life force by the man he had been fasting and praying to save.

Cash quickly sprung into action, casting Hideous Laughter on Doru, the man falling to the ground laughing as Cash uttered a terrible pun at the situation. He quickly informed the party to tie Doru up, but both Nick and Chiaroscuro had attacked him in retaliation of Father Donovich. Not that most of the damage did much, because as soon as Alexir brought Nick's rope towards Doru and tied him down to the pole, he had regained what little health he had lost.

As Doru relaxed from the incessant laughter that plagued his body, he attempted to get free of his binds. Cash offered the compromise that if he answered some questions about Strahd and the Castle, they'd let him free, and they'd even give Doru the choice of whom he fed on next. Doru, at the sound of a blood offering, broke down, frantically babbling about anything he could remember about Strahd's Castle, the man himself, and why Strahd was obsessed with Ireena. He informed them of the Heart of Darkness deep within a Tower in Strahd's Castle, he informed them of the maze like structure of the building, and that Strahd had been calling Ireena 'Tatyana' for the entirety he had been there, and that he didn't know much else after this due to being trapped in a prison like structure with another person in the cell near his own.

After he expounded the severity of him receiving blood, Kenshi smiled, offered his hand, and then began to pull back, striking out at Doru with his claws. Alexir had given Doru a few good whacks with his Whip as it was bathed in holy Divine Smites. This helped bridge the gaps as Doru was unable to regenerate his body's health, as the Radiant Damage from Alexir's Divine Smite had negated all regeneration to Doru's Spawn Body.

Doru's body was resilient, and he was strong as he broke out of the bindings that the party had left him in; however there was little that could be done as Alexir's whip crushed his rib cages and broke his spine. Killing him was like taking Pot Shots in a Barrel of Fish, but it was still frustrating to have not one, but now two bodies to deal with, after having handled Kolyan's funeral just that morning.

Everyone brought Father Donovich's and Doru's bodies up to their respective rooms, leaving them there for a brief moment while Alexir and Kenshi went to go get assistance from the local grave diggers, the imposing twins Barrik and Derrik, who lived down the road. Chiaro, Cash, and Nick went to grab supplies from Bildrath's Mercantile on the way to Ismark and Ireena's Mansion.

Kenshi knocked on one of the doors, not expecting to see Barrik answering the door as he held in his arms a small child drinking from the bottle. It was almost comical how miniscule the child was in relation to his large, imposing form. Kenshi explained the situation to Barrik, who sighed, nodded, and handed off his infant to his equally large and imposing husband behind him. They all went to Derrik's house next door to inform the man of the situation as well, and Barrik made the comment that this was the third and fourth graves they had to dig today, what with Kolyan's and another beggar man's grave from last night.

At Bildrath's Mercantile, the group did a bit of shopping, selling two of the rings that Cash had filched from the Death House, but unfortunately the price gouging in the town of Barovia was exorbitant, making just that barely enough to purchase a rope, a water skein, and a bed roll with rations for Chiaroscuro. Nick eyed the products carefully, if things were this expensive, but Bildrath simply shooed them away after they had finished their shopping trip.

The group reconvened at the Burgomaster's Mansion, as Ireena prepped for her travels. The group informed the two of the sad occurrence at the Church, but nothing could be done about it now. Kenshi specifically did not go into details to spare the two the grisly realization that it was the party's fault for bringing the Father down into the basement. The group, with Ismark's blessing and 250 gold between the 5 of them, left the Mansion and started on the road out of Barovia, the town, and into Barovia, the country proper. It was a long day ahead of them.

#curse of strahd #cos #alexir #cash #chiaroscuro #kenshi #nick #Ismark Kolyanovich #Ireena Kolyana #Father Donavich #Doru

[enzeno]

HELP-

So I just started curse of strahd for my players and it’s also their first time on roll 20 and for a solid bit, they couldn’t stop laughing at how father donavich looked like a wet fetus. Im literally so???? I adore my players so much. 

// spoilers for the module

doru was just screaming in the basement and all they could do for a good while was laugh at how ugly his token is

#curse of strahd #doru #father donavich #donavich #dnd #session one #Dungeons and Dragons

[vodoriga-art]

Very tiny (7,5 x 9cm) CoS zine I started and then dropped after four and a half pages when we were three or four sessions in 🦇 (top right are Donavich and Doru, bottom right is the party in the death house)

#curse of strahd #ravenloft #dnd #strahd squad #cos

[nkukubean]

🌻 Doru Donavich \\ Vampire Spawn of Strahd & (very confused) Cleric of the Morning Lord 🌻

a concept doodle from a few months back

❗️ Curse of Strahd Spoilers❗️

So, my party adopted Doru after freeing him from the basement. They chased him into the roof of the church while his father was… helping give a sermon for another party members funeral. Half the party was trying to get Doru down while the other half distracted Donavich (and crying due to their dead friend). Eventually, he was offered blood, which got him down.

After several harrowing experiences later, a near TPK proved his worth in the eyes of the Morning Lord. He’s been given a last chance, and he knows he can’t waste it. He’s afraid he’ll be taken back by Strahd, but he trusts the Morning Lord’s new given power will help him evade being controlled again.

Also, he’s Ismark’s boyfriend. Sunshine child.

To whoever pointed out that the spirits that raise in the graveyard at night are the friends and community he lost while fighting Strahd, how dare you. I can’t stop thinking about that now. I’m going to cry, and I can’t tell my party why yet, because they haven’t gone out there at night. The last time they did that, one of them died to Strahd. That’s a story for another time though.

Oh, also…. Old old baby boy art from like 2 years ago when I first started DMing Strahd. I need to give him back his grey eyes.

#welcometobarovia #curse of strahd spoilers #curse of strahd #cos Doru #Doru #dnd strahd #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd art #dungeons and dragons art #dungeons and dragons artist #dungeons & dragons #d&d #dnd artist #vampire #vampire spawn #cleric #morning lord #digital art #fantasy #horror #dark fantasy #myart

[froogie-art]

More drawings of You. I’m starting to get more comfortable drawing her, so that’s good.

I’m trying to portray more of her personality in my drawings of her. I haven’t quite gotten there, but I’m working on it

#curse of strahd #strahd von zarovich #dnd5e #dnd character #dnd art #dnd oc #oc #oc art #doru donavich #doodle

[nevermoretoleave]

anything was better than being down there. and they were kind to me, and they fed me, and... and i know, i know that the way this ends is... i don't make it out. he'll turn me on you, or... even if you don't, even if you succeed at what you want to do, if you bring the sun back, i'll just burn. i'm dead either way. — on doru donavich.

#npc: doru donavich. #* edits. #doru #curse of strahd

[beetlebabby]

a comic about that one fateful day for doru

#blood cw #i LOVE drawing strahd going ape shit #doru donavich #strahd von zarovich #curse of strahd #cos #dnd art #dnd5e #comics #my art #also doru has since been rescued from strahd and we are now fostering him. he's okay i Pwomise #gore cw #ask to tag