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[image description start. A photo of the sun setting on the horizon, with trees in the distance and a small grassy area with mostly dormant, yellow green grass in the foreground. The sky farthest from the horizon is almost black, fading to paler and paler blues or purples before abruptly changing to orange pink right at the tree line. Image description end.]
[image description start. A close up photo of a juvenile skink sitting on fallen oak leaves on concrete, with its back to the camera, it's body curved into a u-shape in a defensive posture. Most of its body is dark brown, with pale orange thin stripes tracing along its body, with its tail vibrant sapphire blue, the stripes turning cyan. Image description end.]
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To be kind to myself as I take a break from packing: this is an oc post! If you don't want to read about my oc Nash, then keep scrolling!
I've been finally being kind to two of my biggest comfort characters, my ocs Ichor and Nash.
Ichor is a character that will continue to follow me, and so his story develops as I do, but Nash? Nash helped me with a lot of self-discovery and self-confidence. (Ex. He was his party leader, and despite not always being right as in Correct, his party trusted him to do right by them as in what was best for them. Helped me learn that mistakes are okay and people will still support you.)
So, Nash's story was cut short. Our dm chose to not continue the plot, and we swapped campaigns. We were in the midst of a world-destroying war, people all over the continent were dying, and all of the pressure for helping then was directed Solely towards Nash (he'd established a kingdom w/ the party before these tragedies started, and he was deemed King alongside his husband Maldric.) And Nash had no way of helping them. The first city they visited that called for aid? They tried to fight off the monster, and they won, but at the price of Nash's life.
That should've been it. He died. The hope for the war died with him. Maldric locked himself in his lab, Nash's siblings were heartbroken, the whole city mourning.
Then the party realized they couldn't win without Nash. They sought him out in the afterlife and brought him back at the price of one of their souls. He ressurected alone in his tomb with no memory of dying. He broke out from his mausoleum and stumbled into the daylight without a second thought, afraid for his party and people. And then when the townsfolk saw him, they screamed.
He was undead. His wounds were still raw, blood coagulated and black, skin pale and cold. His heart didn't beat. The undead were riding all across the continent, and that was the doing of the enemy. His people feared the same had been done to their king.
It took some getting used to. Nash (who worshipped Helios, titan of the sun) could no longer feel the warmth of the sum. On adventures he was often so distressed that he couldn't lead his party or save them. He felt horrible that Maldric could no longer hear the beating of his heart or comfortably be held (despite the dwarf saying he didn't care), and he hated the way his people seemed to avoid him even months after the ordeal.
That was where we left off.
Now though, I've decided he deserves to be happy.
Nash grows old, and remains King of his city, Haven. Or, actually, he remains the same age. As an undead, though the fighting and defeating of their enemy left him with more scars and grey hairs, he grew no older. His God, Helios, chose to bless Nash after he survived the final encounter. As he struck the final blow beneath the sun, Helios made Nadh a champion.
He's immortal now. When under the sunlight, he is living. He breathes, his heart beats, and his wounds all close. While at night he's undead once again, his skin pales and his wounds re-open. During the day he gives off a natural glow, and everyone knows him as the Immortal Sun King. (Maldric, as a boon from his God Hepheastus, chose to inhabit a cyclops-made metal body, effectively becoming immortal to live beside Nash.
Nash's siblings aged and died as he ruled, their offspring (adopted and biological) are his bravest warriors and smartest scholars. He loves them dearly. He watches them grow, and the melancholy replaces the grief fairly quickly.
And, of course, he's the patron of many, many, adventurers. He's a father to a lot of them, a friend to others, and a savior to the continent.
The longer he rules, the closer he gets to godhood alongside Maldric, but he doesn't care for that much at all. He only wants to take care of his people as he always had. He has himself, his husband, his faith, and his home. What else could he ever hope for?
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[Image description start. Three photos showing a choppy panorama of a river at sunset, with the sky steel Gray streaked with clouds that are pink at the very horizon, and the river below reflecting it almost perfectly. Image description end.]
These are public domain, so you can use them for anything you want. Anything. Yes, even that! If you would like to leave a tip, my paypal is "Rjalker".
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A red house sits still
surrounded by trees on a small hill
and the sky above and beyond stretches cloud filled forever
as the sunlight slips with its star below the horizon
taking with it all the heavens
while colors swell and spread and fade
like a sweet dream at morning’s dawn, soft
and quiet as a feather.
-vmaddesso
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