#undeadoc

[cybernightart]

I'M ALIVE!

Also OC ART!!!! Here is my boi Jaymes!

Lore blurb below!

Also little baby Jaymes

As well as a bonus old artworks of him for 2017-19!

He's evolved so much 😭✨

LORE BLURB!!!

He is a wood elf, who was the commander of the elven Royal guard, who ended up sacrificing himself to save the lives of the new King and Queen(and the Prince). And because of his courageous act, The god of Death decided to spare him, by making a deal with him to become one of his death knights and act as a Reaper (Dullahan to be specific) and claim the souls of evildoers(specifically evildoers not necessarily criminals), serving justice for those in need! And Now every scar on his body marks a soul, He must claim in order to be revived. With every soul, the scar representing that soul becomes faint. Additionally, while he is currently undead, He does not have his memories from when he was alive, That way he can stay focused on his mission as well as Have no pre-existing connection to anyone he might have to kill.

He is a multi-class Technically composed of the Ranger, Fighter, Barbarian, and technically a warlock with some Druid sprinkled in. However, in the universe I made some of the classes work differently. So he technically is just a Ranger/Barbarian.

The god of Death also chose him, Because my version of the god of death is also the god of life, Justice, And Barbarians. And because of Jaymes already having more anger than most elves, The god of death thought he would work perfectly as his first Elven Death knight.

Also extra tidbit but he also has a Nightmare (the undead/fey horse creatures) called Phoebe! As well as eventually acquiring a dog (Irish wolfhound) called Paddy! Who turns out to be a Blink dog✨

[gevoelig-kunst-parmoi]

Drew amanita again! She's so cute

[empthylee]

溫格好治癒，想帶著他旅行(X P2- "Mr Vengarl, I want to buy some Lightning Urns." "Hold for a minute,the replenishment will arrive soon." "Aha?"

"Lightning Urns are arriving now! You can buy as much as you want." *Screaming

[absolutelyabsolem]

How about.... “I’ll be here as long as it takes.” UndeadOC/Anyone

You really know how to tickle my wishbone lmfaooo ANGST! ANGST! ANGST!!!! I completely most of it way earlier in the day, but I got distracted by a kdrama right before I finished lmfao… Thank you sooo much tho~

      When Adelliah became undead, she quickly learned waiting was something she would have to become accustomed to. As the centuries passed her by, years started to feel like seconds. Snapshots in the years of memories built up. Time only slowed in the heat of the moment; the fire of battle, of passion, of happiness, of sorrow. Still, those were the most cherished of memories, and the times that were hardest to leave behind. Each lifetime added a hundred, a thousand, a million moments worth living for, but with each lifetime those moments became harder and harder to let go of. Friends became family became fodder, en endless cycle of gain and loss, with no end in sight. She could measure her lifetime in the lifetimes of her friends, most cut tragically short by blade or bow, or the rare occasion magic. She told herself each time, that she would become accustomed to loss, that this was part of who she was now. She never did.

      It happened so close to the end Adelliah could have tasted it if she had a tongue. The final battle - they all knew it. Sebille, Beast, Ifan… They had traveled with her, put their trust in her.

     Sebille was free, really truly free, her former master dead, her duty to the elves ended, and yet she had followed Adelliah still. For friendship, as the first decision she made unbound by any shackles. Because she said Adelliah was the best friend she had ever had. The first friend.

     Beast had finally found a chance to confront Justinia, to pull her out from the influence of the Black Ring. Adelliah had watched him plan with Justinia, to go back to the dwarven lands and rebuild, despite her protests that he should become Divine. Beast had simply smiled and shook his head, telling Justinia that if anyone became Divine, it would be “the lass.”

     And Ifan… Oh, Ifan. Lucian, right in front of him, retribution staring him in the face. And they had felled him! Fallen to the ground, the first of their enemies to go. They had all felt Ifan’s rage, his grief, had known that Lucian would be their priority - that no matter what happened, they had to take him down. Adelliah had deferred to him, as she had every time something was important to one of her companions. No, her friends. She had held his hand when confronting Alexander; hugged him after the talk with Hannag; kissed him, loved him, after their escape from the well…

     All for naught. One by one, they had fallen to the Kraken. Sebille had gone quickly, already weak from the previous fighting. A small mercy, that. Beast was the second to fall, flames licking at his flesh. His beard did burn, in the end.

     Ifan was the last of the three to fall, desperately fighting side by side with Adelliah, Braccus Rex the only adversary left. She could still hear his labored breathing as he struggled to hold up his sword and shield, the pained grunt as a bolt of electricity hit him from Braccus’s staff, the clatter of his armor as his knees hit the ground. She had watched in horror as his bloodied body sagged the rest of the way to the ground, his eyes trained on her, resigned. Regretful. Seconds stretched into millennia, and she had never felt the passage of time so acutely as she did with each of his shuddering, weakening breaths. She screamed as his eyes glassed over, flinging everything she had at Braccus - and won. A hollow victory, surrounded by the corpses of her friends. Her family. She sank to her knees beside Ifan, shaking him, pleading, “You have to get up, come on, Ifan…! It’s over! Ifan? I know you’re tired and hurt, love, but we can get you patched up, you just have to get up! Please! Please…” She looked up, toward where Sebille and Beast lay. At the death all around her. Rage built - rage at the “gods,” the “divine,” all the lies and hatred that had hurt her friends… and led to their deaths. She lashed out, a bolt of blood striking a pillar.

     Adelliah yelled at them, what was left of them, “How could you fall here at the end! You had it all in your grasp…!” She beat Ifan’s chest ineffectually, his body as cold as hers, but stiff. Her voice dropped to a whisper, shoulders slumped, defeated. “All of you… You were all so close, you could have spend the rest of your lives doing whatever you wanted. You could have been happy. So why? why? Why did you join me, if you were just going to leave me like this…” Unable to shed tears, she screamed her anguish, the broken cry of a woman who had lost too much, for too long. Stumbling to her feet, she walked to the throne where the Aeteran floated, awaiting use. She clutched it to her chest, and went to the bodies of their enemies, draining their source one by one. Braccus… Dallas… Lucian. One more person’s worth of source was all it would take, and she could seal away the Voidwoken. Free everyone from this war, this cycle…

     "I’ll be here, guys. I’ll be right here. As long as it takes for me to join you in the Hall.“ So she sat, Ifan’s head in her lap, holding one of Sebille’s and Beast’s hands in each of her own, as her source was drained away by the Aeteran and cast back into the Veil. Quietly, as her consciousness slipped away, she sang to them, her voice echoing in the crypt beneath crypts.

     Rumor spread that the path of blood had become haunted by the pilgrims who had died to its trials, and even when the cathedral eventually fell to ruin, it was said that a voice could be heard, singing and singing for her friends to come home.