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karlskrafts · 2 years

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On the other hand… she’d heard stories about the nomads before, and if even a half of them were true they could be incredibly dangerous when they wanted to be. They were a sect of wizards of some sort, incredibly secretive and elusive. They evidently came from somewhere, but no one seemed to know where; they just showed up from time to time bartering rare and unusual magical items. Anyone that got too curious about where they got them from would soon find that the nomads had taken their business elsewhere. They preferred people who didn’t ask them too many questions.

The artificers guild obviously hated them. The guild had been slowly consolidating the relevant market for years, muscling out anyone that didn’t fall into line, but even with all their clout within the city, they still couldn’t make the nomads fall in line. Every effort to try to stamp out their smuggled goods had failed miserably. It didn’t help that whatever they brought in was almost always better quality than anything any guilded craftsman could manage to make and they kept their secrets religiously.

The guilds could afford to hire some dangerous and capable people, not to mention outfit them with top of the line gear, stuff like mail with spells of protection hammered into every single ring, blades that could cut solid stone and never dulled, or a crossbow that could punch through a cart horse but be drawn with a finger, yet somehow, whenever they sent these very dangerous, very capable, and very well equipped people out after the nomads to try to force them to heel, none of them ever seemed to come back.

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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He seems friendly.

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Sorry, no story for this fellow, just trying to break through some artist block and get back to drawing after being sick and useless all week, so here's something a little sketchier.

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Trying out some different rendering styles and character designs to figure out what I want to do for a larger piece and just general practice. Look at these crazy kids. Someone finally got a face that wasn't a terrifying abomination!

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Sometimes you can't get the face right and you just have to punt. That's when you stumble upon TRUE perfection. Remember folks, its your own little quirks and foibles that make you who you are: a terrible snake jawed monstrosity with a flipper hand capable of swallowing an entire glazed ham in one bite, no chewing, like a cartoon character. Now you've ruined Christmas eve dinner, your mother is crying, everyone else is yelling, but at least your stupid racist uncle finally fears you like he always should have done because, at last, he has seen you for the eldritch god you are. Happy holidays?

#art #illustration #the other eye #shitposting #faces #silly #cartooning #sketchbook #sketch #empowering #christmas #digital art

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Ah some other old sketches from an old d&d campaign. One of the first ones I ever played in. The dwarf fighter, the mute halfling ranger, and the huckster cleric who worshiped "Ice Skating Jesus" with stats rolled on a d20 for super broken characters. Good times.

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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"Mazerai took from the pack an old longsword, the leather of the scabbard cracking from age. They pulled the blade out a scant few inches and gazed at the metal. Despite its age it was well cared for and the edge shone in the light. The sight seemed to stiffen their resolve. They re-sheathed the sword and buckled it at their waist. If they were leaving the road, best to have it to hand. Not everyone they might meet would be friendly. Mazerai took one last look around, and seeing nothing else, walked forward into the desert."

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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"Faendrik removed his hat and fanned himself with it. The summer sun had made travel arduous, and sweat was streaming down his brow. He’d already doffed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, but he longed desperately for a breeze to cut though the heat of the oppressive fug that hung over the hills, yet still the air hung as motionless as it had done for days, undisturbed except for the sound of insects in the grass. Ahead of him over the crest of the next hillock he spied a copse of old trees, standing high amongst a carpet of bracken.

‘Thank the Gods for a bit of shade at least,’ he sighed and made his way to the stand to rest for a bit. He decided to take his lunch in the crook of one of the trees and wait out the heat of the day, swinging up to a convenient branch to rest his back against the trunk. The leaves around him barely rustled in the still air.

No sooner had he gotten comfortable, hanging his hat and satchel just beside him, when he spotted something through the leaves, moving on the road through the haze. It was a pair of stooped figures, hunched and gnarled like old trees themselves, dressed all in black even in the noon-day sun. One of them seemed to be almost snuffling along the ground like some sort of animal.

He froze, then slowly placed the apple he’d about to bite into back into his satchel and listened intently. Through the quiet he caught one speaking to the other in a high rat-like voice. ‘He came this way. Of that I am certain. I can still smell the stink of him stuck to the road. Not long ago either. We must be getting close.’

The other one growled low in its throat. ‘That nose had better not be playing tricks on us. If we don’t find him soon, the master’ll have our hides. Him and that letter he’s carrying.’

‘My nose is twice as good as your eyes, you mongrel. You’re the one who lost the trail in the first place.’

‘Hard ground doesn’t take footprints. We ain’t had any rain for a week. It’s all dried up.’

‘Shove your excuses, just keep 'em peeled. He’s close now. And get that pig sticker ready. I ain’t taking no chances. We’ll make sure he ain’t delivering no message, one way or the other.’

Faendrik saw the taller figure pull something from under the black cloak, and there was a glint of metal catching in the sunlight. As the two approached the copse, he reached down and slowly, quietly, drew his sword.”

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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" Pezzak had produced a small skinning knife and was cleaning the hares.

'All these things you say are indeed true, but it is true also that they still carry weapons and are sworn to defend the city they call home. Not all of the city's enemies are monsters. Sometimes they are soldiers from Ardem, or otherwise honest people turned bandits that hunger has driven into the hills to waylay caravans. Nen has a strong dislike for soldiers. I’ve never gotten her to say exactly why, although I may suspect. I believe the Masked Saints are broadly a force for good, even if they are much too stiff for my liking. Most I’ve met could stand to relax a little more, though I’m conscious of the responsibility of the legacy they have taken up. Your goal is a noble one. Do not let her dissuade you.'"

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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The mercenary organization known as "The Horns" has no one single leader, but Gaston is certainly the most immediately memorable and their namesake. An imposing and unmistakable presence, this citizen of eminence is not only a dangerous foe on the battlefield, but his understanding of politics makes him equally formidable off it as well.

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Just a little preview of a project I've been picking away at for a while. Certainly more to come in the future.

#dungeons and dragons #dungeons and drawings #dungeons #maps #dungeon master #dungeon map #pathfinder #art #fantasy #fantasy art #sketchbook #d&d #d&d art #d&d stuff #ttrpg #homebrew

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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“And from the hill top there came a sound like thunder. Not the artillery, no, though that pounded in the distance like the very devil’s drums. It was the dragoons, the Basset Runners coming down the slopes and bringing hell with them. At their head was the screaming mad halfling, Bordeaux, and above them, with lightning crackling in his jaws, was his pet dragon. The line splintered like a match stick.“

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Another old piece of an anonymous dwarf from the era in which I did not wish to draw feet. He looks very warm and toasty in his furry cloak.

#dungeons and dragons #d&d character #art #character art #illustration #dnd character #pencil #sketchbook #fantasy #fantasy art #dwarf fighter #dwarves #greataxe #pathfinder

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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"Olivia paused in front of the painting. 'They were the knights of the wing. They were part of the reason the old kingdom was able to grow as large as it did, able to project force across the miles. 'Bourn forth on the backs of rocs, justice was done by claw, beak, and lance. No evil could escape their sight.' I have often wondered what it would be like, to be able to ride the wind like they did. Now the rocs are all gone into the mountains and have become wild again. Some say the order never existed in the first place, but I still believe."

#fantasy #fantasy art #character art #art #illustration #pencil #sketchbook #d&d character #dnd character #birds #birb #fantasy knight #knight

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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"Gorum smiles on those who would struggle,

And though the old masters were cruel,

With their whips, and their chains, and their hobbles,

For my fire they were only fuel.

He smiled when he looked upon me

And He saw that my head was unbowed.

He clad me in iron, said throw off your chains,

And I cut the old masters down.

So beware to those who oppose me,

For I cannot be withstood.

The Lord in Iron is with me,

And I shall give him your blood.

I am Krusk, of the iron bound, though my chains be broken."

#dnd character #d&d character #illustration #art #character art #sketchbook #half orc #pencil #fantasy #fantasy art #pathfinder

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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He Who Has Walked All Roads

High above, in the mountains at the top of the world, above where every road known to mortal man has shriveled into nothing, rises the mountain of the sun. It is here, where all things lie below, that the high priest of the All-Seeing God sits in his archives, writing all that he has seen, all that can be seen, and all that will be seen. Attended by the few faithful willing to brave the heights, Griff the Hammer and the Herald dwells in the heart of his occulary. He has seen the weaving of the world, for he was there when it was done. When 6 worlds broke upon the back of the fitful dreamer and were saved at great price from oblivion through the subtle hand that brought them all together into one.

He has seen them as they approach, though they pass with little trace. They walk a road that is known possibly to no one else but themselves, one that bends like light through the wyrds and winds of the mountain passes, with steps that pass through points in ways that are somehow less than lines. They come slowly, as though burdened, but their steps do not falter for no weight upon their shoulders could be enough to stumble them. At their side they bear a shard of one of the old worlds, unwoven, unbroken, and sharp as thought. On their skin they bear still the marks of their now dead goddess, the flowers, the compass, and the vine. On their brow they bear a star: a new divinity. And they have come here for council.

They knock upon the door, a courtesy for they have passed through the last gate that may ever be, after which no door may hold against them. The attendants greet them with detached politeness as is their wont, with some surprise to see them here. Unlike their master, they do not know who it is that has walked unto their hall. They see just a man, lightly clad in red and green. When they ask his name he tells them “I am just a traveler, and I have come to speak with Griff the Hammer and the Herald,” and the words he speaks are true.

The high priest stands and takes up his namesake, the rod of his command, a massive thing which no other man could lift, so heavy is it with purpose, and the weight of all he knows. He walks to greet the visitor and when he asks his attendants if they know just who this strange man is, they cannot answer him. He shakes his head and tells them. “He has seen the weaving and was vessel for his Goddess just as I was for Mine. It was through us and one other that they worked to save the whole of it.” He asks The Traveler “Just what do they call you now?”

The Traveler smiles at his old friend and says “I am Shilo Segundus ten Maya, the thorn of the rose, the wandering vine. I am he who has walked all roads. The second Sojourner. The guiding hand. The red pilgrim. The star crossed and star-crosser. I am the god cutter, the dragon slayer, and tyrant breaker.” He says these things and they are all true as well. He continues. “To many I am just a traveler, but to you I hope I will still be called ‘friend.’”

They clasp hands warmly and Griff sees with many eyes that which his attendants are blinded to: the star upon the Traveler’s brow. “What has brought you here?” he asks, though the answer seems so plain.

The Traveler’s face grows dark and sad, lined with tragedy and loss. “I have come to tell you my tale as payment, then to ask you the final, greatest question, and hope that you know another, better answer than the one I already do.”

The two retire to a more comfortable study, where such matters may be properly done. It is heavy with the forememory of what is about to come. Griff offers sustenance and after they have ate and drank he speaks. “Before we begin your tale, I would know your question so as to weigh your request against what you may offer.”

The Traveler raises their eyes to his, and in them the sudden gulf of space rolls forth around them both, the weight of time and travel and the far places where no man nor god should tread. Griff sees a shining fragment of the things the traveler has seen and done and for a moment he is afraid where lesser men would break. When The Traveler speaks it comes from a far off place beyond the shadow of the sun. His words are stuck like hammer blows on the hot iron of the world

“I want to know how to kill a God.”

#writing #short story #fantasy

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karlskrafts · 2 years

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Some old sketches I found of some character studies I did years ago.

#dungeons and drawings #art #character art #d&d character #illustration #dwarf #dwarves #dwarf fighter #d&d art #d&d #ttrpg #sketchbook #sketch #pencil #fantasy #fantasy art

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