Heres an art fight piece I did a while ago for @kupadraws of their character Gruntilda! A Half-orc who was swept up into the Feywilds 💐💖⚔️ 

I keep forgetting to share my pieces from art fight here!

@doctordash QUEEN OF THE AUTUMN COURT 🎃🍂☕

More goats

I’m a big Critical Role fan, so after finishing Vox Machina I had to paint everyone’s favourite fey, Artagan 💛👀

Ligament Manor! Home of Nana Morri and Fearne, just an idyllic place in the middle of the Fey Realm.

Illustration for Critical Role

Thanks to Kyle Shire and Matthew Mercer for the opportunity and their guidance though both the new pieces revealed in tonight’s stream!

In the Land of Faerie (Emmanuel, White Dwarf 37, GW, January 1983)

Delilah skill issue

My dm, unaware that he’s about to drop the BEST npc in our campaign: “Behind the bar you see a dandelion mixing some drinks.”

Do you accept the T̵͓̻̀h̷̳̙̔e̶̤̾ ̴̼̘̓͒P̸̫͑̂a̴͙̐c̶̰̿̍ţ̵͍̓̆?

'Nana Mori'

Entering the Feywild, the Hells arrive at Ligament Manor and are greeted by Mori, who invites them to have a cocktail. I'm sure nothing bad will come of this with this Bloodborne-esque hag....

This was one of my last attacks (made in those scary crunch time hours), a villain called 'The Hag Mother' belonging to Emalyn-Freya on Art Fight! 👁️🥀🌙

Dungeon: The Bleakfather’s Throne

The world is heavy here, cold knaws at the bones of your companions making every step forward a struggle and the desolate wind sounds like a lamentation. Coming over the rise you see it, the regal corpse that rivals the surrounding mountains for imposing grandeur, the source of this dread season that seeks to smother all good things beneath its sorrow. 

Not all archfey are tricksters or stag-crowned gentry. Like the realm they inhabit, they embody stories, emotions, and the strongest aspects of nature.  The Bleakfather is an aspect of winter at it’s most cruel and deadly, as well as the sorrow that saps the will to go on living, all too common in those long, dark months. For ages untold he has sat his mountain-hewn throne, mummified by the cold winds of his domain as the depths of his misery chokes every spark of life from the land. 

So titanic in size, the bleakfather’s throne is itself a fortress inhabited by ice giants who claim decent from the archfey and raid in his name. They fear their father’s stirring from his glacial malaise, and so listen for his voice on the wind and scour the surrounding lands for any note of happiness that would defy the tyrant’s sorrowful reign. 

Adventure Hooks: 

With his eyes on becoming Jarl of the Bleakfather’s Children, an upstart Jotunn by the name of Talfjarn has assembled a warband and is going raiding in the realm of mortals, hunting the coast on longships the size of wargalleys with an enchanted storm at their back. Though he’s willing to crack towns open in the hopes of gathering pillage and slaves, he’s heard tell of a dragon slumbering somewhere up river that he wishes to test his mettle against. 

The giants have constructed a great temple in the vault of their father’s sword hand, where the trophies of great battles are heaped and the haunted wind howls between his pillar like fingers. Here there shamans divine the Bleakfather’s will, and listen for disturbances that might dare wake him.  Unluckily for our heroes, a celebration they attended ended up getting rowdy enough that its echoes were heard all the way in the feywild..and now a squad of towering winter warriors will be showing up to crash the party and put an end to their good times.   

There is power in mythology. It’s said in years beyond counting that the Bleakfather destroyed the ancient dwarven kingdom in order to steal a relic of great beauty upon which the dwarven lords and ladies swore their oath. Seeking to reunite the warring clans, a would-be hero has set her sights on breaking into the archfey’s vaults and taking back the relic.  It’s only after the party aid her in this daring task that they realize that her advisor had a very different end in mind: Waking the Bleakfather and letting him rampage through the material plane in a jealous rage, to better clear the way for a new order with the advisor at its head. 

Babysitting her best friend's daughter <3

[ wip ] textured lineart is the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires

When lost in the woods, remember the Exandrian fairytale that warns against following a beautiful faun who would love to show you her Nana’s garden.

Don’t you wake the Sweet Tooth fairy

Resting on its throne of cherry,

For when angered it might hunger

For your teeth, its favourite plunder