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A very fun scene featuring Krulxel's character, Krue, and his friend's character, Zeno! Krue is helping Zeno try on a Dino Gnar plush, in front of a cozy fireplace, as a wintry snowfall continues outside.
I loved Krulxel and his friend's character in this one, and I also had a lot of fun painting the interior and objects in the room! There are a bunch of easter eggs in this one - especially the different plushes around the room! Poros and Pokemon abound. :) It was also fun to paint a winter-themed scene while it is summer where I'm currently located - I enjoy summer, but this really makes me look forward to winter!
Thank you for asking me to painting such a fun idea, Krulxel! :D
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The Raven Queen, like all gods of death, is only the false personification of a natural force--albeit one that is useful for those who are not properly able to conceptualize the force itself, in the overwhelming fullness of its power. This is something Kr'AUKtktktktkwer ('Krue' to beakless speakers) has known since she was barely fledged, in training as a conductor of funerary rites. She may speak the name of the Raven Queen if that is the custom of those she lives among, or of any other god they want her to name, but she knows what truly lies behind that comforting facade. And now, as a warlock contracted to that mindless and orderly power, she even more intimately understands how much greater it truly is than any comforting humanoid embodiment of it could possibly represent.
...Which makes it very difficult for her to accept the fact that her pact spirit, which could presumably take any form and which in life was a handsome vulture, is so insistently and unchangeably a raven.
Among the orcs, goliaths, ogres, and hill giants of the Hollonese mountains, the vulture is a sacred creature, able to visit the land of the dead and return alive; they carry the dead on their wings, they say, and sometimes bring back messages and omens from the other side. Even ogres will superstitiously refrain from killing a vulture. The Atratus colony of aarakocra do not share this belief, but they subtly encourage it, for this superstition is both their guard against aggression and the heart of their trade with other species. Like many nomadic aarakocra colonies, they aim to be internally self-sufficient, but any additional needs, and safe passage through the mountains, are taken care of by the services they offer to those they pass among on their journeys. And their colony's specialty is the commission of death rites--especially those which ensure that the dead do not get back up again.
As with the wild vultures who are their kin, the Atratus tend to hatch two eggs at a time, and there is a careful division of each nest: one to be apprenticed within the 'inner' colony, the cooks and hunters and weavers and caretakers, and one to enter the ranks of the 'outer' colony, the funeral specialists who are the only ones to deal with the rest of the world. Or, as the elders liked to say, 'one chick for the living, one for the dead.' Kr'AUKtktktktkwer and her nest-twin Kr'akekekWArk (Krac, and listen, she's just doing her best to transpose these names such that other races can TRY to approach the correct pronunciation, so jokes are not appreciated) were very similar as chicks, careful and tidy and always a bit anxious about the rules. But when it came down to it, Krue was anxious about following them precisely, Krac anxious about not being caught breaking them. And so while Krac professed more interest in the outside world, and the set of duties that would put them in contact with it... precision was a better trait for a conductor of funeral rites.
Krue was the sort of person to do as she was told, so while she was concerned about her ability to deal with outsiders--the funeral attendants were the diplomats and traders and negotiators, as well--she simply took up the robes and hoped that she would be given enough training to prove adequate. She and Krac, as unmated fledglings, still shared a nest, and bolder, trickier Krac helped as well, offering her suggestions and advice in exchange for tales of outlanders Krue had seen and details of the rites, traditions, and theology that Krue was learning. She'd always had an interest, and Krue saw no harm in feeding it. After all, it stayed within the tribe.
Krue knew that Krac was unhappy with her own apprenticeship as a bowyer, and felt stifled by her seclusion within the colony with the others of the 'inner' Atratus. And Krue regretted it, she really did. But tradition was tradition; the elders had placed them both, and there was nothing she or Krac could do about it. Besides, she was a busy bird, busier still as she was entrusted with more and more by the senior attendants, and Krac was busy as well--earning her own way upward in the crafters' hierarchy, Krue assumed. They moved to different nests and thus spoke often, but there was still strong affection between them. And trust, Krue thought.
And then Krac fled, in the night. Packed up her nest, all her worldly goods and all her notes and journals and all Krue had ever given her, and vanished. Krue felt betrayed, but also guilty, for if anyone should have been able to guess Krac might do it, it should have been her. The elders were aghast, but decided in time not to pursue her, once Krue revealed how unhappy she had been. Better for someone to leave than stay and buck tradition and the elders' rule within the colony.
Krue grieved, but she comforted herself with the hope that Krac could now chase happiness, and buried herself in her work as distraction instead. Several years passed by, years in which she worked hard and won her seniors' respect, and even started training some fledglings. She courted a few of her flockmates, but didn't go so far as to start a nest and invite any to dance for her, or dance for any herself; it just didn't feel that important to her, either nesting or laying.
And then they met a goliath tribe that viewed them with suspicion, when they entered the tribe's current range and offered to preside over their dead. They'd gotten that offer from an aarakocra that looked just like them, the goliaths said, after a glorious battle that laid out much of the tribe. But when she had chanted her rites over the dead, they had risen up under her command, instead, and marched off into the west.
Krue, a strange premonition coming over her, asked if she'd given a name. The goliaths did their best to say it: Crack-ekek-work? Crack-eh-quirk? They'd taken to calling her Cracked-Heart, one of them confessed. And funny, she'd looked like all their lot, but she'd looked the most like Krue.
Remembering the secrets she'd shared with her nest-twin and the curiosity, manipulative advice, and dissatisfaction she'd ignored, Krue knew that she--was not to blame, no, but certainly had played a part. And somewhere out there were others who must have played a part, taught Krue more, offered her power, and they were to blame too. The Atratus weren't much for religion, beyond casual allegiance to Syranita, but they believed that the dead should stay dead, as was the natural order if things. And Krac, if this was Krac, was upsetting that order.
Krue, sick at heart, did what her people never did on their own behalf: she prayed to the power of death. Well, not prayed, really. Bargained. Offered. Begged. Swore a vow, and made a promise. And knew it had been answered when the vulture skull in her nest grew flesh and feathers, and changed its shape, and hopped onto her shoulder as a raven.
Her colony was even less happy to see her leave than they had been about her nest-twin, but they knew a driven soul when they saw one.
Race: Aarakocra
Ability Score Increase: Dexterity +2, Wisdom +1
Age: Aarakocra are adults by 3, and don't live much past 30. Krue is 11.
Alignment: Lawful Good
Size: Medium (6'2", 140 lbs)
Speed: 25 feet walking
Flight: 50 feet (can't be wearing medium or heavy armor)
Talons: You are proficient with your unarmed strikes, which deal 1d4 slashing damage on a hit.
Languages: Common, Aarakocra, Auran
Class: Warlock ('Raven Queen' Patron)
Patron: Your patron is an unthinking but absolutely rigid natural force that you have served since you fledged.
Special Terms: You must ensure that death around you takes place according to the natural order of things, and that it is never put off by subverting the force you serve. If that force is stymied or tangled, you must release it.
Binding Marks: The raven seems it should be enough... but everything goes dull-colored and grey around her when you call upon your pact power, and every time, while the effect fades when the spell does for observers, it takes longer for your own color vision to return.
Armor proficiencies: Light armor
Weapon proficiencies: Simple weapons
Saving throw proficiencies: Wisdom, Charisma
Skill proficiencies: Arcana, History
Sentinel Raven: A raven spirit that acts a bit like a guide or guardian and a bit like a familiar.
Background: Acolyte
Skill proficiencies: Insight, Religion
Languages: Giant, Celestial
Feature: Shelter of the Faithful (can pass as, or gain member-like benefits of, the worshippers and cultists of most anti-necromancy death gods)
Personality Traits:
I quote (other people’s) sacred texts and proverbs in almost every situation.
I am tolerant of other faiths and respect the worship or other gods.
I keep multiple holy symbols on me and invoke whatever (death-related) deity might come in useful seems appropriate to the context at any given moment. (from Charlatan)
I am always calm, whatever the situation. I never raise my voice or let my emotions control me. (from Criminal)
I’m willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgement. (from Sage)
I’m always polite and respectful. (from Soldier)
I ask a lot of questions. (from Urchin)
Ideals:
Tradition: The ancient traditions of worship and sacrifice must be preserved and upheld.
Reserved: As someone new to these strange lands, I am cautious and respectful in my dealings. (from Far Traveler)
Family: Blood runs thicker than water. (from Noble)
Bonds:
I will do anything to protect the temple order where I served.
I suffer awful visions premonitions of a coming disaster and will do anything to prevent it. (from Outlander)
I have an ancient text that holds terrible secrets that must not fall into the wrong hands. (from Sage)
Flaws:
I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely.
I am inflexible in my thinking.
I like keeping secrets and won’t share them with anyone. (from Hermit)
I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies. (from Outlander)
I follow obey the law, even if the law causes misery. (from Soldier)
I’m disgusted that some people (mostly women) are taking up for Chris Brown. Do y'all dumb asses realize you have to have cold hard evidence to be granted a restraining order. Stop making excuses for grown ass men.