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Unown ‘Q’ warlock

‘Q’ had been following the voice for days now, but how much longer. He sighed as he gazed out at the rocky land bellow him. This was going to be hard, but he HAD to find out what was calling him.

I got an unown dice kickstarter going on so please take a look!

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Since, I’ve decided to roll a Vulpera shaman, I decided to resdesign my former shaman Goblin girl.
She is now a warlock by class, though a rather low-level one, who fears the power of Fel more than she embraces it. 
Her name is still Nyxxsie (last name tba).
I’m not sure who she currently works for atm, but I figure she is a secretary or bookkeeper, always available for hire, to the highest bidder.
Her use of demons is mostly to help her handle tedious tasks, or to scare people who owe her money for some service. 
She is mildly ambitious, but her busy work life keeps her from actively pursuing her dreams. Or maybe she’s too afraid to use the power of Fel and shadow to attain them.
Either way, she is a good bean at heart, just a teensy bit greedy.
I will be trying to keep aesthetic reminiscent of the american 20’s-30’s, heavily art deco. Think Great Gatsby. 
I did my best to achieve this with her overall color palette, and dress in game, but options are limited. Expect to see this more in mine or any artwork of her. 
Her companinons are Bones, the alabaster hyena she rescued from the sands of Vuldun. Belqua her most frequently summoned demon, who aides in her various errands.Lastly, An enchanted libram which she uses to do all of her paperwork,clerical or otherwise, there may or may not be spells in it as well.
As of right now that’s all i have of Nyxxsie as well! I should be putting out an art piece of her soon though, so stay tuned!
Edit: she will be available for rp! If you’d like to interact with my goblin!

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“I’m looking for something”
“Most people are.”
“I want revenge.”
“Revenge? That’s not how magic works especially dark magic, whatever you put out there will come back at you threefold… and they’re not cheap”
“Listen to me-” The man lunges over my stall, grabbing the warlocks shirt and pulling me close “- can you do it or not?” Letting go of the warlocks shirt and straightening himself out. The man spoke with no ounce of remorse.
In the years of being travelling, the warlock had never had just a blatant demand for a way to hurt another. Mostly people wanted to have better sex, blessed crops or make themselves less ugly or even for riches. The very rare clientele who do wish to cause harm usually mask it as rodents on why they need poison or a sob story on why this is the only way. Never like this.
“Yes sir, I’ll take half the payment of…80 gold… come back tomorrow with the other half of the payment and I’ll have what you need.”
The man dropped a bag of well over 160 gold. Turning and walking off.
The entire square was silent, frozen in their movement till he was completely out of sight. They started whispering and then moving slowly getting back up to their jolly volume of a busy market place.

The next morning as the sun peeked over the distant hills and the warlock set up his most commonly bought potions. Joking with the fruit and vegetable lady the next stall over.
“The next time he comes to me asking for a potion, I’ll tell him to eat more fibre” they laugh til a shadow looms over the stall. The woman’s soft and friendly jokes turned to silence, she turned and walked to her wagon parked at the far edge of the market stalls.
“Well, where is it” The man’s callous attitude remained unchanged.
And good morning to you too” The man said nothing back. “Alright then, on a serious note, I need to warn yo-”
“Don’t waste your breath, I’ll do anything for my revenge.”
The warlock sighed, shaking his head, he reached under the stall and pulled out a dream catcher and a potion.
“Drink this tonight and sleep with no pillows, just simply this dream catcher under your head, you will experience the most real living horror your imagination could ever come up with. When you wake, smash this gemstone”- the warlock gestures to the centre of the dreamcatcher “- say the name of the person you wish revenge on and they will suffer but yo-”
“That’s all I need to hear.”. The man grabbed his items and walked away.
The warlock wanted to call out, warn the man but he feels it would only fall on deaf ears.

That night the man drank the potion, threw his pillows to the ground and placed the dream catcher under his head before laying down. He waited for his eyes to get heavier but the familiar sensation never came. He tossed from side to side in his bed but the bed itself seemed to prod back against him, stabbing into his spine and thighs. Eventually, he sat up in bed, muttering about the scam the warlock was running. Climbing out of bed and walking into his kitchen for a drink. He poured from a jug of water into a cup, watching as the jug emptied but the water didn’t land in his cup nor on the floor, as if it evaporated mid-air. His dazed state thinking the jug must have been empty al along. He reached out to an orange but before his fingers locked around it he felt the skin of the orange moving as if it was alive. He looked over but it was simply an orange, nothing more, nothing less. Movement in his peripheral vision caused his eyes to dart over to the loaf of bread sat out on the table which looked normal at first, the longer he looked the more it changed and then unravelled and slithered across the table, a snake shaking its tail causing him to quickly step back into the darkened hallway he had just come from.
He looked back up to see no snake, just a loaf of bread. No orange with moving skin and an empty jug and cup.
The sense that maybe he’s more tired than he thought as the panic in his body started to escape him, he turned back towards his room. Ony for the panic to reach all new highs when his body locks in place, shaking as he watches a looming dark mass creep towards him, stretching across the hall, from the floor to the roof and behind beyond. In the endless darkness of this creature’s body, the only truly visible part is its eyes. So many eyes, everywhere, all-knowing, all-seeing. The shadow brushes against him and as it’s shadowy limbs move back it takes with it, his skin. The man clutches his bare bloody exposed muscle but seven more limbs whip out and take with them their payment in skin. The man stands there screaming but no noise escapes his lips, physically unable to move his body despite how much he tries to pull himself free of this invisible grip to run. After his skin is taken, it was the muscle and the demon pulled them off slowly, hearing them rip and tear from his bone. The grotesque being who enjoys inflicting pain left the mans eyes untouched, his eyelids were removed but his eyes were forced to see everything till he was nothing but exposed nerves, veins and bones. As the tentacle-like suckers ripped them from his skull the man woke in his bed, gasping for air.

Not remembering falling asleep but the man thought back ‘of course that was the dream, the warlock said it would be the most horrific thing you could ever imagine but it was still only dusk’ Assuming he must have had a brief hellish sleep. This night of suffering will be worth his revenge. He contemplated not going back to sleep, he can’t have more bad dreams if he doesn’t sleep. Heading into the kitchen to grab a knife, thinking he had out-cunned the warlock if he broke the gem now. As he got to his kitchen he stepped on something that crunched under his feet. His sleepy eyes looked down waiting to adjust to the lack of light when it came into focus, mentally and visibly. The bones, the nerves and the veins of his skeleton from his dream.
A shudder ran down his spine, the feeling of eyes burning into him but he fought the urge to turn around. He closed his eyes and ran towards the door, he pushed it open and ran and ran and ran and. He kept refusing to open his eyes, knowing nothing but that he couldn’t open them, he shouldn’t look back. A familiar crunching noise was the only thing he could hear, he sobbed without seeing he knew he was walking over his own bones. Eventually losing his footing and falling down, opening eyes only to catch himself but being unable to close them again.

At a distance, it looked like pale sand but they were an oceon of his bones. A red fog of blood hovering in the air painting the sky to mimic the setting dusk sun.
“You called?” The warlock sat on the bones beside him.
“What, what is this? I thought it was just a dream?”
The warlock tilted his head, pulling out a small sundial, before nodding to himself as he tucked it back into his pocket.
“It was a dream, three days ago and you woke up and smashed the gem and now the person you wish to suffer, suffers from these nightmares… you on the other hand… you have to live them til your body eventually ceases to be. You’ve done this- counting on a few of his fingers - “218 times… 20 minutes a dream, three days… yeah, 218… Most people only last 19 days so… uh… you’re almost there.” He chuckled.
The man stared at the warlock with tears in his eyes, clutching his bones dusting the land around them.
“Stop it, stop it now!”
The warlock said nothing.
“Please! I beg you, I will pay you anything!”
The warlock said nothing.
“Warlock I demand you stop this.”
“I thought you wanted revenge, to ruin a life, costs a life?” The warlock smiled but it wasn’t his smile. An eye on his cheek appeared, in his hand, his coat, his forehead, his skin turned black as ash.

“Excuse me Sir, you don’t happen to have a portion of some kind to stop nightmares do you? My daughter has been having them a few days”
“Why yes, I have the perfect thing and it tastes like sweeties and it’s on the house” The warlock leaned over his stall to see a teary-eyed little girl hiding behind her mother’s leg. 

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I was to share this sketch. But I delayed. I do not know why.
Now I decided to add it…
Soooo….I draw the Warlock guardian - Xanan - In a slightly … “bolder” version of Warlock’s outfit :‘DDDD
…and yes … The ghost of my Guardian has 2 knives on the case x’D
so… 100% knives are glued onto a silver tape [has power] :’DDD

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