The Barbarian and The Fighter" COLORED (BG3) Featuring Karlach and Galmar (one of my Unholy Trinity) https://www.facebook.com/BorisGrozevArt

(gonna just re paste most of the WIP description)

Gotta say, this pairing is really fun to draw for me. Both veteran warriors, soldiers of wars, both went trough absolutely traumatic events, cursed by the hells. And both soft at their very core.

Its also kinda funny on a meta level. Karlach, is an extremely loved character by the community, so in a a lot of different alternate worlds she ends up with her close lovers or friends on the mission to save her very being. While Galmar on the other hand, he doesnt belong to her realm, and part of his curse basically puts him in the spot to never be able to be in any romantic relationship(will go into more detail later down the line). And while he doesnt know about that side of his curse, his obsession with work and his duty put him in a position where it doesnt matter. So in this case I like to think that Karlach is basically saving his soul, the curse rules work differently here, and she is giving him the greatest blessing of all.

Proper love( from best girl XD )

Some of my fav characters from TES that are unique looking are Galmar Stonefist in Skyrim, the Grey Prince in Oblivion and Vivec in Morrowind. I think one of them would be fun to draw

fairly unfamiliar with the Grey Prince sorry! Galmar was interesting though bc I rarely draw larger guys and trying to round him out without looking cutesy is sort of a challenge but I think I did ok

thanks for asking!

◆Nice hat◆

bonus under the cut

i just had to include him

~low quality Skyrim memes~ 15th edition

Skyrim Characters Send Text Messages

It's been a while since I have done one of these, so let's goooooo...

Elisif the Fair: *sends passive aggressive texts where she tries to get you to "unwittingly" compliment her* *favorite emoji is the heart with sparkles* Vilkas: *has a Nokia brick* *it's vintage, okay* *he bought it secondhand at Belethor's General Goods* *half the keys don't work* Farkas: *emoji king* *sends out those chain texts like "pass it forward to 10 friends you think are special"* *buys Vilkas a new phone and he refuses to use it* Galmar Stone-Fist: *sends one word texts* *half the time they are misspelled* *"What's an emoji? Why are you sending me smiling bears, Rikke? Bears don't smile"* Ulfric Stormcloak: *all of his texts are grammatically correct* *man would not deign to use abbreviations nor contractions* *long winded walls of text which wax poetic* *this is a 5 paragraph essay* Brynjolf: *sends out phishing messages about Falmer blood elixir* *gets scammed himself* *phone is full of texts about meeting the "sexy Argonian maid of your dreams for 29.99 per night"* Serana: *sends the politest texts or rants about her parents* *there is no in-between* *just come meet me okay* *200/10 will then get you into trouble but you'll have fun* Teldryn Sero: *prefers not to send text messages but rather call people* *no one picks up because who answers a phone in this day and age* *gives up and texts eggplant emojis to Neloth* *will talk to you on the phone for 3 hours* General Tullius: *loses his phone half the time so he gives it to Rikke* *Rikke sends all his text messages* *doesn't actually know how texting works* Lydia: *sends snarky texts about picking up your stuff from Breezehome* *seriously my house is not a storage shed* *drunk texts flirty messages* *LDB takes her phone* Uthgerd the Unbroken: *too little patience and too small keys* *accidentally smashes her finger through the screen* *doesn't bother getting a new one*

ooc but whatever

The way of Boethiah, a Snake in the grass.

Galmar Stone-Fist: The Dragonborn is an elf?

Ralof: Half-elf, yes.

Leara Rose-blade, the Last Dragonborn: The other half is violence!

The Dragonborn does not speak at the council, for all the trouble she went to arranging it.

She sits in a straight-backed chair at the head of the table, her sword in its scabbard resting against the stone. (She was the only one permitted to carry a weapon into the assembly.) Lydia, her sharp-faced housecarl, is seated to her left.

It’s the Dragonborn’s council, for all intents and purposes – it may not have been her idea, but it was she who petitioned for it, persuading Arngeir and then the war-leaders and the dignitaries they dragged with them. It was for her sake alone (Dragonborn, Ysmir, legend come to life) that some agreed to attend at all.

But when the council finally begins, kings and warriors crowded around the long stone table, she is silent. An argument begins immediately, Ulfric objecting to Thalmor presence within the negotiations and Tullius objecting to his objection, and it splinters off into something thorny and onerous. It takes half an hour for discussion to begin properly – and then someone says something and they’re off again, everyone around the table coiled tight and wary, and the Dragonborn stares into the middle distance and offers no thoughts.

It doesn’t stop, the talk of trading holds like game pieces and demands that the armies’ leaders be compensated for massacres that never touched them. Arngeir tries to quiet them, and Esbern’s desperate passion riles them up, and when half of the room has leapt to its feet and voices echo off High Hrothgar’s sacred, watching stones, the Dragonborn finally speaks –

Which is to say, she claps her hands over her ears and spits a Word that rips the voices from their lips and the room is finally, mercifully silent.

Her housecarl, the only one who does not seem startled by this, places a hand on the back of her chair and says, “Thane?”

The Dragonborn uncurls, removes her hands from her head, lays them flat on the table.

“I don’t understand,” she says, slow, as though the words are weighed down. She isn’t looking into the middle distance; her eyes shift from face to face like she is trying to meet everyone’s gaze at once.

Galmar Stone-fist, standing by a chair to her right, claws at his fur-lined collar. “We have –”

“Let the Dragonborn speak,” Lydia interrupts, voice and eyes steely. Galmar’s face twists, but he falls silent.

The Dragonborn presses her hands into the stone tabletop.

“Do you believe,” she says, “that the dragons will leave your side alone?”

On the other side of the table, General Tullius raises a sceptical brow. He leans back into his chair. “If you have a point, then make it. We don’t have time for more nonsense.”

Her eyes snap to him. Lydia repeats, “Let her speak.”

The Dragonborn holds up a hand.

“Do you believe,” she enunciates carefully, “that the dragons care anything for your war? None of this matters.”

“On the contrary –”

“Alduin will tear your cities down,” she tells them. Her eyes are eerie dark as holes too deep to track, and even her housecarl is staring at her now. “Only I can stop it. Until you get out of my way, you are fighting over rubble.”

There is, again, silence. Arngeir is visibly thankful for the reprieve; High Hrothgar’s walls, unused as they are to such uproar, can once again, if briefly, know peace.

Ulfric stood up sometime in the yelling; he has not sat back down. He is leaning a little on the stone back of his chair as he says, “You called us here in hopes of a ceasefire, Dragonborn. Truces aren’t made of empty air. Terms have to be negotiated.”

The Dragonborn stares him down. Her palms remain flat on the table; her sword stays resting against her chair.

“But you aren’t negotiating with him,” she says, the words still heavy, still slow. “You’re negotiating terms with me.”

There is a pause. The watchful stones soak in the silence.

“With you,” the Legate replies.

The Dragonborn’s face is blank. “If you truce, I will fight Alduin.” She speaks the weighed-down words as though they are the most natural thing in the world. “If you don’t, I won’t. Your cities will fall as Helgen, and you will die afraid. Those are my terms.”

Lydia places a hand, palm up, on the table. The Dragonborn covers it with her own, mimicking the pose of the wrist, the splay of the fingers.

“Now,” the Dragonborn announces, her voice a laggard echo of Arngeir’s opening speech, “who would like to begin the negotiations?”

(There is no shouting during the rest of the peace council.)

Okay, so....

Generally, you're not supposed to repeat similar poses like this too close together because it'll eventually lose its impact on the readers. (Kinda like how writers shouldn't overuse italics or exclamation points for the same reason.)

But can we appreciate that Katsura Hoshino discovered she had a new superpower here and was clearly having the time of her life with it? Otherwise why else would she have drawn this similar shot like six+ times over the course of this arc?

It's been over a decade since these chapters were published and I still love the hell out of this.

Goofy pack of Dual Blades! colored (MHR) Featuring my Unholy Trinity ( Galmar/SnS, Cerise/LGB and Beth/DB ), Fugen and Utsushi (Will add the WIP text for context) Did this between commissions I absolutely ADORE the combat and Follower system in this game you have no idea! Recently I decided to try a Beth and DB Fugen/Utsushi and I absolutely adore having this goofy trio of DBs ! so fun! Also, decided to add some demon mode lightning just to make it more thematic on the colors

Galmar Stone-Fist: Did you call Ulfric stupid?

Eryn: No.

Eryn: I said "Are you fucking stupid?"

Eryn: I was asking him.

Galmar: And do you think that was an appropriate way to talk to the high king?

Eryn: VERY much so.

Imagine if Balgruuf was sat next to the Dragonborn during season unending, how fucking chaotic that'd be 😭

Sat there giggling like fucking kids taking the piss out of Ulfric, Elenwen, and Tullius bickering under their breaths

Legate and Galmar side-eyeing them constantly

The witty come backs they'd conjure up too omgg

Why didn't we get this 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Newsflash: Fanfiction writer is very amused with what she is writing at the moment.