Ruk in the Sack

Ruk enjoys his relaxation time.

Arnyn Snowstride

Arnyn Snowstride is an Ulfen (a Viking-esque people in this world) ranger I am playing in my group's Jade Regent campaign for the Pathfinder RPG. I was originally going to play as Daisuke (earlier post), but our fifth player moved away, so we decided to play straight out of the box.

Ruk, the Hero

Well, this campaign is winding down, and much has happened for Ruk. Figured I would update his appearance with the swanky new weapons and armor he has managed to obtain. He's also a bit scruffier as his beard has had some time to grow back, but it seems those shaving scars will never full heal.

Story Time!

**So, over the weekend I decided to try my had at writing a fantasy based, tentacle themed erotic story. Below is the result of my sick experiment. Hope you guys enjoy! :) **

            Durgrin felt like he’d been following the pitch black tunnels of the Wild Dark for years now. In truth, it had only been a few days since he was cut off from the rest of his mining crew after the earthquake that had caused the cave-in, leaving him trapped, alone, on the wrong side of tons and tons of rubble and stone in an unexplored tunnel network.

            The absolute darkness didn’t bother Durgrin; the young dwarf’s eyes saw the tunnel around and ahead of him as clearly as a human could see in a well lit room. It was the burning ache in his stout, muscular legs from his near constant march though the Wild Dark that bothered hm.

            “Can’t be much farther now,” he said for what must have been the millionth time. Saying it aloud, filling the tomb-like silence around him with the sound of his own voice helped keep the panic at bay.

            He knew through that strange sense, that unexplainable connection all dwarves had to the Stone, that he had been travelling in generally the right direction, back toward Radatharn, one of the seven Holds beneath the Rimespire Mountains that made up the Republic, and Durgrin’s home. Frustratingly, however, none of the wild tunnels or passages he’d traversed yet had deposited him anywhere familiar.

            The dwarf blamed his inexperience, his youth. At forty-five, Durgrin was just a few years into adulthood and only recently a full citizen. If he’d been a short lived human, he’d have appeared roughly in his early twenties with short cropped black hair, a full, shortly trimmed black beard, and crystalline green eyes. He’d only joined this gemzyte mining crew last year. Though it had done wonders for his body, strengthening and broadening his already burly arms, shoulders and torso, it had done little to expand his knowledge of the Deepdark. The crew stuck to well-known gemzyte deposits, seeing little need to strike out further so long as their established deposits remained productive.

            Durgrin reached his calloused hand down to the small mithril flask at his hip, a gift from his father to celebrate his Majority Day, and took a quick, shallow sip of the lichen ale contained within. The potent brew just barely moistened his parched mouth and throat. The flask had less than half a finger’s width of ale remaining. He’d be out of liquid soon and had yet to come upon any sources of water in his wanderings.

            “Can’t be much farther now.” The millionth and first time.

            As if the Immortal Stone itself had heard his words and taken them for a prayer, Durgrin caught the faintest tell-tale damp scent of water coming from farther up the tunnel. He quickened his pace, gritting his teeth against the surge of weary pain that spiked in his exhausted legs.

            Not far ahead, the tunnel opened up into a modestly sized chamber. He heard the beautiful trickle of water almost immediately. There, off to one corner, a thin stream leaked from a small fissure in the ceiling.

            A burst of renewed hope sent Durgrin running, splashing through ankle deep water across the cavern, ignoring the aching protests of his legs. He ran past a flat, rectangular stone table of some sort, barely registering its presence except to avoid it as he ran. Within moments, he stood directly underneath that blessedly cold little trickle.

            Durgrin sighed as the dripping water wet his hair, then his upturned sweat and dust covered face. He opened his mouth, holding out his tongue to catch as much of the sweet water as possible, gulping down each refreshing mouthful.

            He stood there for several long minutes, quenching his thirst. His desire for water sated, Durgrin stepped out from under the stream and shook his head back and forth like a hound, spraying droplets in every direction, and finally turned his gaze to fully survey his new surroundings.

            Slowly walking the circumference of the cavern, he began to find the tell-tale signs of worked stone. This wasn’t a natural cavern like he had blindly assumed at first, but some sort of unbelievably ancient ruin.

            The floor of the chamber was flat, near as he could tell, though it had flooded to ankle deep. The leak in the ceiling must have been draining for decades, if not centuries, given the size of the chamber. The ceiling was natural, unworked stone and rose about twenty feet high.

            The most peculiar thing about the chamber, however, was the long, low stone table that rested in its center. Durgrin guessed that it had been hewn from the living rock, perhaps a stalagmite back in whatever distant age that this chamber had been wild.

            The young dwarf slowly circled the slab, gazing curiously at a series of horribly faded marks carved along its sides. Despite the terrible condition of the engravings, Durgrin was almost entirely certain they were no form of Dwarvish.

            What was this place, he wondered. The slab vaguely resembled a somewhat larger version of the stone beds that the vast majority of the less wealthy citizens of Radatharn used, Durgrin included. The parallel suddenly drove home just how exhausted, in both mind and body, the young miner really was. He felt weariness seeping through him, just as the ankle deep water had seeped into his heavy boots.

            The “bed” lacked basic cushioning and covering, not to mention anything resembling a pillow. Even so, after days of curling up on the rough Wild cavern ground, for a restless hour or two of troubled sleep, a flat and rubble-free surface looked like the most comfortable thing in the world.

            He slid onto the waist high surface, bent forward and removed his thick leather boots with wet squelches, turning them over to drain the collected water. His hairy toes had shriveled into pale prunes.

            He set his boots on the slab then lay back, stretching out his arms and legs. He let out a deep sigh which echoed briefly throughout the chamber, leaving only the soft, constant trickle of the leaking water.

            The sound was soothing and Durgrin found his breath deepening, settling into a relaxed rhythm. He found himself gazing up at the ceiling and noted something odd.

            Directly above the slab upon which he rested was a natural hole about as wide around as Durgrin was from shoulder to shoulder. He could tell the hole went deep, his dwarven eyes unable to pierce the blackness that loomed within. It made him anxious about what strange tunnels and passages he may have to traverse upon waking. He found himself longing for home and the simple comforts of his normal life.

            The young dwarf rolled onto his side and curled up, resting his head upon his meaty forearm in place of a proper pillow. He closed his eyes and despite his surroundings, despite his situation, lost and alone in the Wild Dark, sleep soon overcame him.

            He had no idea how much time had passed, but Durgrin slowly awoke to an odd tickling sensation upon his bare shoulder. Thinking it to be some kind of pesky cave insect, he groggily moved to swat the bug, or whatever vermin it was, away.

            Instead of some wandering insect, Durgrin’s hand swatted something heavy and dangling that swayed away from him. Confused, he swiveled his head, and his bleary eyes widened in surprise.

            At first, he thought some kind of thick, bizarre vine or root had somehow snaked down the ceiling hole to brush against him while he slept. That is, until the sickly green thing twitched and swung back to brush Durgrin’s shoulder again and began moving, its blunted and oddly puckered tip lightly running in questing circles over his bare skin.

            His breathing quickened, eyes wide with fear. He had no idea what manner of beast this tentacle belonged to; only that he had no desire to find out.

            Durgrin stared transfixed as the thing lightly explored the mound of his shoulder. He was frozen, his heart racing with instinctive, animal terror. The tip of the fleshy tentacle was warm and soft to the touch, that strange little pucker leaving a glistening trail of some clear fluid that reminded Durgrin of thick saliva wherever it touched.

            A scraping, slithering sound ripped his eyes away from the tentacle grazing his shoulder and back up the hole above him. His breath caught as a second tentacle leisurely snaked out of the opening, its tip flicking at the air like a cave adder’s tongue as it lowered, growing ever closer to where Durgrin lay.

            It was too much, terror overwhelmed Durgrin all at once and like a frightened animal, he tried to bolt, tried to throw himself off the slab and run for the tunnels out of this cursed place, never looking back. One foot barely swung over the slab’s side before the tentacles lashed out, quicker than striking serpents and wrapped his wrists in their viselike grips, pinning him back down onto the stone. He struggled feebly, but his arms might as well have been welded in place.

            “No, please! Let me go!” he cried out, his voice echoing back at him.

            The tentacles tightened slightly and Durgrin feared they meant to snap his bones. They simply held on, however. Firmly, yes, but not painfully, not crushing him. Adrenaline was surging through him and he kicked his bare feet out desperately. Two more fleshy tentacles slinked out of the ceiling, arched and hovered a brief moment before snapping around the thrashing dwarf’s ankles, similarly pinning them so that he was held, arms above his head and legs flat and slightly spread.

            His brow beaded with sweat and his powerful chest heaved, rising and falling rapidly as his breathed hissed out from between clenched teeth. He couldn’t believe this was happening; this had to be a nightmare. He was still asleep he had to be! Please, Blessed Stone, let this be a nightmare! Let me wake up!

            Durgrin watched in ever growing horror as a writhing mass of tentacles squirmed and swelled out of the hole above him, some thinner than the four that held him, others much thicker. They writhed in the air, their movements terrible and mesmerizing all at once. Slowly, two tentacles lowered towards him, swaying languidly. He tried to force himself flatter against the slab, unthinkingly trying to get back from those approaching limbs.

            The two appendages lightly touched their tips to the exposed skin between the waist of his breeches and the bottom of his sweat-stained, sleeveless shirt. The soft touch brought a gasp from Durgrin. He feared that at any moment, the horrible things would plunge into his flesh, or perform some other horrible act to end his life. He gasped again as the tentacles instead slid up under his shirt, blindly slithering up over his abs and up onto his hairy chest, tickling him and causing him to shiver involuntarily in his bonds. The tentacles slithered over the firm mounds of his pecs, coiling and uncoiling around them.

            To Durgrin’s horror, he felt a stab of arousal as the tentacles under his shirt seemingly fondled him. But, that couldn’t be right, could it? No, this was some mindless monster that at any moment would somehow devour him. The thought caused him to cry out when the questing tentacles suddenly convulsed, ripping his thin, tattered shirt from him, exposing his powerful body to the writhing mass above. Slowly they rose from him, hanging a few feet in the air, the bulk of the mass lowering and growing more still. Durgrin got the sick feeling that the thing was appraising him with some unknown sense. The whole mass suddenly shuddered, quivering, the four limbs holding him in place tightened slightly and then relaxed. They did not, however, let the dwarf go.

            The puckers on tips of the two tentacles that had shredded Durgrin’s shirt began to dilate and then contract, oozing that strange clear fluid. It beaded so thickly that it began to drip, warm droplets splattering onto the dwarf’s exposed stomach. The main bulk of the tentacles began to writhe again, and the two dripping appendages lowered towards him. They lay against the flat of his belly and began to slither up once more, the tips leaving a glistening trail upon his skin. He shuddered with a mixture of revulsion and poorly suppressed pleasure at the sensation. They traced the lower curve of his pectoral muscles before sliding up to trace wet circles teasingly around his soft, pink nipples.

            Durgrin shuddered again, inhaling sharply and arching his back against his will at the sudden pleasure. His deep inhale became a gasping moan and he convulsed as the puckers latched onto his nipples, sucking and tugging on them repeatedly, clear goo oozing out from the tentacle tips and dribbling down the sides of his pecs. They filled the cavern with an obscene slurping noise as they nursed upon the dwarf’s sensitive nubs. His head lolled back and he groaned repeatedly, his horror momentarily forgotten by sheer pleasure.

            He could feel his cock hardening, straining against the confining fabric of his breeches. It jumped in response to twin probing sensations entering the leg cuffs of his breeches and slithering over his hairy shins, up past his knees and further up along his thighs, causing goose bumps to explode over his skin. The two new tentacles that had invaded his pant-legs continued to squirm, sliding to his inner thighs and moistly caressing the sensitive skin it found there. The wet tip of one tentacle grazed the underside of his balls in its exploration and his cock jumped like it had been struck by a lightning bolt, pleasure shooting though his groin. The other tentacle took notice of his member and wrapped around the engorged organ, forcing a strained grunt from the dwarf. It began to flex and coil around the Durgrin’s cock, slithering up and down.

            Durgrin’s back arched, and he tried to rock his pelvis into the tentacle’s cock-fondling, but the two limbs holding his feet flat in place made it difficult. He was breathing heavily now, not in fear any longer, though that same animal panic still stirred faintly in the back of his mind, but from the pleasure being inflicted upon him. The fact that he was held at the mercy of this strange beast, helpless, only heightened his arousal. He allowed his eyes to close and rolled his head to the side, pressing his face against his firm bicep. He could smell his sweat in his armpit, mixed with the strange indescribable smell of the tentacles’ juices oozing from their tips as they continued to mouth his nipples. The combination was overwhelming and he felt his balls tightening and his cock swelling as the fondling appendages brought him close to the brink of orgasm.

            Durgrin’s groans of pleasure transformed into a desperate whine as the tentacle encircling and massaging his cock retracted, leaving his member moist, but unfulfilled. His disappointment lasted only a moment before the two tentacles in his breeches convulsed sharply, ripping the pants to shreds and pulling the remnants from the startled dwarf. He now lay completely naked, exposed beneath that entrancing tangle of tentacles. He felt himself blush, his body flooding with shameful heat. Durgrin was no stranger to sex, but this was completely different, and the mixture of shame and wanton lust he felt at this moment had his thick cock hard as the very Stone that birthed his race, its heavy weight causing it to lie nearly flat against him, smearing his belly with his own precum.

            He now had eight tentacles on his body, the four holding him pinned to the slab, the two suckling upon his nipples, and the two resting upon his thighs, slithering almost lazily. It was then that a new tentacle squeezed out from the main mass and lowered deliberately towards the dwarf’s groin, its convulsing pucker copiously dripping with clear fluid. It arched down, the opening at its tip touching the head of his cock; circling around the smooth bulb and spreading its goo. Durgrin gasped at the slick touch, his cock twitching momentarily away from the tentacle before it snaked back to continue smearing the dwarf’s member.

            Just when the teasing was about to drive him mad, the pucker expanded and the tentacle forced itself down, squelching moistly as it sheathed Durgrin down to his base. The dwarf cried and then moaned as the tentacle took in his throbbing cock, its fluids glistening as it slid back, nearly releasing the member before plunging all the way back down into his curly black pubic hair. In a matter of moments, his balls were soaking with the tentacle’s ooze as it fucked itself on him. The sloppy, wet sounds from his cock and nipples filled his ears, thundering in his brain. He writhed mindlessly as much as his bonds would allow, trying to rock his hips and buck his cock deeper into the slurping tentacle as it sucked his engorged member.

            He wasn’t prepared when his orgasm ripped its way out of him, almost painful in its ecstasy. He threw his head back, arching his back and crying out into the surrounding darkness. The tentacle hungrily slurped up his erupting seed, convulsing and pumping faster as it swallowed all he had to feed it. After what seemed like a short eternity, he slumped back against the slab, sweat and the tentacles’ ooze coating his body as he took deep, ragged breaths, his eyes half closed.

            The tentacles nursing his nipples continued their merciless pleasuring of his sensitive buds, but the limb that had milked his cock began to slowly, gently retreat from him, sliding wetly up his shaft and sparking pleasure through him as it slipped free, letting his spent,  meaty cock slap down onto his belly. It continued to twitch and throb as some of the hardness left it. As the tentacle retracted back up into the main host, a transformation came over the whole as Durgrin peered up at them. The tentacles’ color changed from a pale, sickly green to a deeper, more vibrant hue. The tentacles holding his wrists and ankles seemed to flex with renewed vigor. He watched, wondering if consuming his seed has caused this change in the beast. Somehow, it now seemed more vital, more alive.

            Durgrin felt the two tentacles resting on his thigh shift, beginning to slide down to his knees where they wrapped around him, holding him like the others and then to forcing his legs upwards and spreading them open, exposing his balls, taint and quivering asshole to the creature. The cool air felt good on his goo slicked nether regions. Several thinner tentacles lowered and began to teasingly caress the firm twin globes of his ass. His whole body shuddered as the feather light touches traced slimy circles around his smooth butt cheeks, moving ever closer to the sensitive center.

            The dwarf moaned and whimpered, once again pressing his face into his raised bicep and inhaling the heady scent of his own underarm musk. No one had ever paid attention to his ass before in lovemaking. The new sensations made his head swim, and to his surprise he found himself craving more. He tried to arch his ass higher up towards the tentacles and they responded, a particularly large and heavy specimen lowering and sliding under his back, propping him up, drawing him closer to them.

The smaller tentacles began tracing up and down the agonizingly sensitive crease between his ass cheeks, slicking it so heavily with their fluids that the slime began to run down his spine. He moaned loudly every time one of the slick limbs would brush against his tightly puckered ass hole. The tentacles that were clamped to his nipples began to pump more eagerly. He heaved his pecs up into them, an awkward movement considering how he was curled up on himself, but it seemed to urge them on, their suckling grew more and more intense, fluid continuing to dribble over and coat his admirably rounded chest muscles.

The small tentacles teasing his ass seemed to tire of his crease and moved their points to his hole, causing the dwarf to cry out as several slick tips began to prod and flick the outside of his tight knot. It puckered involuntarily and he heard it squelch with the tentacles’ accumulated juices. He struggled to raise his ass higher towards the tentacle mass and the appendages holding his knees and ankles responded to him, raising him higher so that his hole was sticking straight up. “Do whatever you want with me,” he sighed.

            Durgrin continued to watch as a new tentacle, thicker than any he had yet seen emerged from the main tangle. It was about as thick as a human thigh, tapering down its length until it was about as wide as Durgrin’s not-so-thin wrist, and seemed oddly stiff compared to these other pliable appendages. Its warm goop streamed down onto Durgrin’s ass hole and flowed down his back. Once the tentacle was fully in view, it appeared different from the others and ended in what looked like a mushroom with a piss-slit, the blunt head was thick and perfectly circular, mounted on a rigid stalk that was ribbed all the way along its length. He immediately knew this to be some prodigious sex organ.

He gazed wide eyed at the revealed cock as it continued to drip a steady stream of its fluid onto his exposed hole. It twitched every now and then, poised to enter the dwarf, to fully consummate their aberrant union. His pulse quickened in worry and lust. He had never had anyone inside of him, not even his own fingers before. But, the continued erotic torment of his nipples, and the rush of this whole experience drowned out his fears.

“Yes! Stone, yes! Enter me,” he moaned, having no idea if this writhing collection of tentacles could understand. He desperately hoped they could at least understand his intent. The dwarf’s outer hole had already been liberally soaked and the small tentacles began to prod at it more forcefully, working the slime deeper into him.

A moment later, the bonds holding Durgrin tightened a bit more and he gave a surprised yelp as he was lifted bodily into the air and suspended underneath the wavering tentacles. Those holding his knees and ankles began to spread his legs farther apart, and a thick tentacle emerged to wrap firmly around the dwarf’s midsection aiding to hold him aloft as the knee-binding tentacles pushed his legs back, fully exposing him once more.

The little tentacles had been prodding shallowly at his hole for a while now, but began to press even deeper, some tugging at the ring, gently trying to stretch it out for what was to come. The tentacles latched to his nipples sucked faster and harder. Durgrin was breathing heavily and moaning this entire time, though his eyes remained fixed on that otherworldly beautiful member hanging from among those tentacles. And then, it began to lower. The dwarf’s eyes followed it until the head disappeared from view between his legs.

All at once, the little tentacles retreated, leaving his hole lubricated and stretched, contracting and expanding in anticipation. That’s when he felt it, that soaking, blunt cock head pressing against his most sacred of entrances. Even prepared as the tentacles had tried to make him, Durgrin experienced a moment of panic. It still felt too big-

It popped into him with an obscene wet slurp and Durgrin threw his head back, screaming in shock, jolted by the weird mix of pain and pleasure as this aberrant cock slid into him a slow inch at a time. His ass hole felt like it was going to rip apart, the feeling extending to the dwarf’s whole body as the creature shoved thirteen ribbed inches of itself steadily into him. His body shook and he tried desperately to get his ass to just relax, to accept this invasion, but it was all too much. It was a blessing when after a long while of simply resting, holding still within him, that the member began to slide out, pulling back gently, slowly.

Durgrin began to breathe a sigh of relief until suddenly his eyes went wide as the creature pumped its cock back into him, ramming itself deeper than before. To Durgrin’s surprise, the discomfort slowly began to fade after the first few slow strokes of the massive penis. Soon, he found himself enjoying it, that lusciously ribbed cock began to slide easily in and out of his liberally slime lubricated hole, and the creature itself began to pick up its pace, probing in and out, faster and deeper. The dwarf was enjoying this, crying out in ecstasy with every thrust into his deepest reaches.

He had shut his eyes as the tentacled cock ravaged him, plunging him deep, hard, and fast. He was practically screaming with every movement the thing made as its head and shaft ribs rapidly massaged his prostate and the suckling puckers latched to his nipples like they were a part of his own body sucked and slurped and tugged furiously. It was all too much, and without any direct stimulation upon it, his cock exploded in another powerful orgasm, showering his chest and belly, and even lightly splattering his lips in his own hot cum.

That’s when he felt the tentacles embracing and pleasuring him go rigid and a massive egg shaped lump rapidly traveled down the creature’s penile tentacle. Durgrin felt a hot, wet eruption deep inside of him as another lump shot down after the first, then another, and another until he lost count, the creature mindlessly pumping its seed into the dwarf’s ass. After the fifth or so spurt the tentacle’s cum could no longer be contained and spilled heavily out of Durgrin with each successive spurt, splashing into the water below them. He didn’t care; the blissful heat that was filling him, combined with his own orgasm had his head swimming, his thoughts a pointless blur.

It was more than Durgrin could handle, he felt darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision, the room around him and undulating tentacles above fading from sight, sound growing distant. His body went limp, muscles slackening as the appendages continued to hold him above the slab. His last memory before drifting from consciousness was the slow suction of the tentacle member unsheathing itself from deep within him.

His eyes flew open as he felt his whole body shaking, being jolted awake by a rough calloused hand on his naked shoulder.

“Durgrin! Can you hear me, boy,” someone was yelling at him, the deep voice becoming more distinct as Durgrin returned to his senses. His eyes focused and the bearded face of a middle aged, flame haired dwarf filled his vision, the face pinched in concern.

“Anthal,” Durgrin asked, his voice cracking as he spoke his crewmate’s name. “What…? how...?” He felt the stone slab beneath his side where he lay curled up on himself and realized his was naked. He tried to sit up, but his thick arms felt weak as a newborn, shaking as it struggle to raise him up.

The dwarf, Anthal, slid his hand under Durgrin and helped right him. He winced suddenly as soreness lanced through his ass as he settled into a sitting position.

“Are you alright, boy? You’re shivering. Goda, your coat! NOW!” Anthal held out his hand, and Durgrin’s eyes followed. Several other dwarves stood behind Anthal, all of them looking worried for their newly found comrade. A brown haired dwarf slipped his long overcoat off and tossed in to Anthal’s waiting hand, the ginger dwarf then draping it over Durgrin’s naked frame, covering the younger dwarf’s shame.

“H- How did you find me?”

Anthal chuckled with exasperation. “Well, it wasn’t bloody easy! You should have stayed put, you cloud addled fool.” He reached up with his meaty hand and tousled Durgrin’s unwashed black hair. “Time enough for that later; let’s just get you out of here.” The red haired dwarf put his burly arm around the younger dwarf’s shoulders and helped ease him to his feet, leading to rest of the waiting crew.

One of the other dwarves shoved a flask to Durgrin’s lips and sharp smell of lichen ale filled his nostrils. “Drink up, lad!”

Durgrin drained the flask greedily, nodding his thanks as the other dwarf pulled it back. He felt several meaty hands slap him affectionately on the back as he was lead among them, guided back through the tunnel that had brought him here. He was saved. He was going home! He felt his lips pull in a wide smile, relief washing over him as he took comfort in the voices of his companions, in their presence, in the feel of Anthal’s arm around him. He was no longer alone.

As they entered the tunnel, leaving this strange chamber behind, Durgrin couldn’t help but steal a quick glance back over his shoulder, his eyes darting up to that yawning hole above the slab. He didn’t waste time wondering if the whole thing had been a dream. He was naked as the day he’d been born, and his ass ached from the intrusion of that monstrous cock. He knew that it, all of it, had truly happened. To his shame, he felt a spike of sorrow for leaving. Despite the horror of this whole ordeal, he couldn’t deny that he had loved every moment he’d spent at the mercy of those tentacles.

The Minotaur

Just a random interpretation of a minotaur.

Ruk, the Exile

This is Ruk Dothaine, an exiled dwarf fighter in the Forgotten Realms game I am playing in that my best friend from high school is starting. Ruk is a clanless dwarf from Citabel Adbar who was exiled for failing in his first command and getting several noble members of his unit killed. He was roughly shaved beardless and cast out. The game will start three weeks after that, giving him time to grow in the long stubble/ short beard you see him here with, but not so long that a few of the shaving scars have healed.

Flint

 

 

 

Flint is a dwarf monk I am playing in a friend's Forgotten Realms game. He was found as a child by one of the Ilmater worshiping monks after his family was massacred by Duergar. He was raised and trained in the Monastery of the Yellow Rose for the past twenty years until his master died. Lacking a definite sense of self outside the Monastery, he has struck out into the wider world.

Sam Castor 2.0

In preparation for me finally getting a chance to play this long anticipated character, I went back and did some revisions to the original design of dear ol' Sam here. The original just didn't quite capture the image that had evolved in my head, so after buffing and scruffing him up a bit, I think I'm there! So I present to you all the new and (hopefully you'll agree) improved Sam Castor!

Trick or Treat- Part 2!

Continuing to gear up for Halloween with some festive, invasive tentacles! Enjoy!

Trick or Treat!

Happy Halloween, everyone! Thought I might celebrate the upcoming holiday with a vampire getting pumped full of wereseed! Hope you all enjoy!