knight-not-pawn

[knight-not-pawn]

((Canon is imploding upon itself so this blog is going full AU I guess))

[knight-not-pawn]

I MANAGED TO FINISH IT OKI I’M OUT BUH BAAIIIIII

[knight-not-pawn]

ask-warlic:

In truth Warlic was procrastinating because his research had hit a dead end. He’d come to bother Serpulchure in hopes he might also have a moment of inspiration and to potentially glean some things that might keep his daughter out of the line of fire a little longer.

All he’d gotten though, was a scolding. He firmly shut his mouth, looking more the part of a petulant child than an all-powerful mage.

“One more thing actually,” he said after a moments contemplation. “I won’t interfere, though it pains me to do so, but you have a friend of mine captive here. I’d like to know she’ll be safe.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but she has always been kind to me,” He shifted a little as if trying to dislodge some uncomfortable bit of fabric or direct attention elsewhere. Eventually he met the Doomknight’s eyes. “If you get bored of her, I’d like her returned home, rather than turned undead or just killed. If there’s anything I can offer to guarantee that, I will.”

Initially, the doomknight hadn’t the foggiest of who Warlic was talking about.  When he did realize who it was, the dead man slowly leaned forward in his chair, carding his fingers and narrowing his hollow eyes.  That was not information that Warlic should be privy to.  He would definitely be keeping a closer eye on the mage’s movements within the fortress from now on.

“Am I to assume”, he asked, voice low and slightly tinged with an unspoken threat, “that you won’t be disclosing how you came to learn that this particular prisoner was being held within the fortress?”

“You are correct, Blue Mage; the nature of her confinement is ab҉s͘ol̴ut̶ely͡ none of your business.  But no, I will not be returning your little innkeeper.  Amusing or not, this one has more use to me alive than dead.  Or undead.”

“Now leave.  I’m sick of looking at you,” he dismissed.

[knight-not-pawn]

Reblog if you're 18+

AND DON’T LIE.

[knight-not-pawn]

                   𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖊                                  𝕬 𝖘𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞                       𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉                                    𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖓

                      Indie/Semi-Selective Sepulchure from Dragonfable.                                      Crossover/OC/Multiship friendly.

[knight-not-pawn]

phoenix-of-falconreach:

Phoenix gave a short, shuddering snarl as she felt her connection to the undead beneath the earth splinter and melt away. “You- I-” 

The sudden pulse of necrotic energy had ricocheted through her connection and briefly scorched her mind, and she blinked very hard and staggered as she raised her sword again. “Well then,” she said after a moment, “No matter what you’re thinkin’ about my right mind, I mean to keep on standin’ here and not lettin’ you by.” 

He shrugged.  What can you do?  He’d said and done all that he could, and if this child was still so eager to fight him, then who was he to deny her?  Certainly not one of her friends.

“So be it,” the dead man said.  He slid into a fighting stance with a practiced ease.  His sword had been silent during this encounter, a minor blessing in its own right, but the Doomknight wondered how much longer that could last.  He could never be certain when that damned creation thought he’d crossed a line.

“Come at me then, if you’re so eager to measure yourself against me,” he said, tone utterly deadpan.

[knight-not-pawn]

horrificmemes:

Reblog and bold all of the themes that apply to your muse’s aesthetic or mood as a character.

Bloodied knuckles | Tear stained cheeks | Rust | A busted lip | Claws | Fangs | A bloody nose | Chattering teeth | A dark space underneath the bed | Scratching noises on a wall | Creaking metal | Fog | Dancing under moonlight | Blood dripping lips | Heavy breathing in the dark | A feeling of unexplained dread | A figure in a dark corner |  Dirty peeling wallpaper | A bloody handprint on the wall | Sobbing in the dark | Bite marks on the skin | Eerie whispers | A hood covering a stranger’s eyes | The growl of a hidden animal | The sound of a blade being sharpened | A deep, dark forest | Walking on the streets alone at night | A cobweb-filled, abandoned building | Eyes darting in paranoia | A heavy beating pulse | The feeling of being trapped | Struggling to get out a scream | Boards covering broken windows | A quiet graveyard | A gas station in the middle of nowhere | A road that never ends | Heavy fog rolling in | The scent of blood in the air | Eerie old photographs | Walking along traintracks at night | A chill going up the spine | Gathering crows | A dusty, dimly lit study | Mist over a deserted cobblestone street | Ghost towns | Shadows around a campfire | The sound of chanting | Church bells tolling | An orange harvest moon | A broken down carnival | A dirty stuffed animal abandoned | Wiping bloody hands on fabric | Nightmares | Waking up in a panic | A power outage | Heavy lightning storms | A secret trap door | The feeling of being watched | Fear from trauma | A Ouija board set out on a table | An eerie doll | A scream of anguish and pain | Withered plants | A room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust  | Owl eyes in the dark | Curled, dead tree branches | A ritual altar | Flickering candles | A lantern held up in the dark | Fear of being followed | Creaking floorboards | Repressed, horrible memories | Clenched teeth | Soft, echoing piano keys | An old book covered in dust | Many pairs of glaring eyes | Stumbling in pitch black darkness | Being stranded in the middle of nowhere | Tarot cards on a table | A trail of blood

Bold the muse’s aesthetic (spooky edition)

[knight-not-pawn]

          I shot a man, I heard him 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡.                  I heard his desperate, dying call.

                         I saw his eyes, grow 𝘥𝘪𝘮 in shade.                                       I saw his 𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻 drain and fade.

[knight-not-pawn]

{ Reblog if it’s always okay to send your character random questions }

[knight-not-pawn]

((finally making art for the bio pages))

[knight-not-pawn]

ask-warlic:

“Oh, cheeky. I’m hurt now, or rather I would be, but I’d rather keep our relationship professional,” he smiled serenely despite the fact he was in quite a bit of trouble. “Oh fine, I’m … Well, I’m bored. Happy?”

“I feel marginally better being here after our arrangement than hanging around my friends. I have yet to get past the mental stumbling block that, no I haven’t betrayed our friendships yet, just sort of betrayed the spirit of our friendships.”

He was still clearly hiding something, something he wasn’t saying.

Maybe not something vital and his face wasn’t showing signs of guilt, but he was hiding something from the doomlord.

The Doomknight stared blankly at him.

“And that’s supposed to be my problem, how?”, he asked.  Really, he would’ve thought that an archmage had more important things to do than just float around and spy on him for what were apparently trivial reasons.  The dead man wasn’t really too familiar with the practices of mages, but he imagined that at the very least Warlic might have some experiments or research to attend to.

“You made the decision to come to me for saving,” he continued, “When you could have easily swallowed your pride and headed to someone else.  A doctor, perhaps, considering all you needed was a transplant.  Surely considering your fame and fortune, you would have found someone willing to do the procedure quietly if keeping things a secret was so important.”

“Now, is that all, or will I have to get back to my reports at a later date?”

[knight-not-pawn]

Send my muse three fears: two that your muse has and one they do not. My muse will try to guess which one is the lie.

[knight-not-pawn]

ask-warlic:

“I’ll take that as a no on the tea then.” Warlic muttered more to himself than the doomlord and replaced the teacup in his sleeve where it seemingly vanished. He lounged back on the air, folding his hands over his stomach. “I haven’t seen or shared any information that might help my allies. I assume that’s the heart of the matter.”

“Either way, you are quite the interesting man. I have it narrowed down to about twenty men you might have been in your previous life,” he smiled at the doomlord. “So I’ve been trying to see if any of their traits manifest in your daily behavior.”

“I’m no closer than twenty: you aren’t particularly lascivious, but neither are you quite virtuous,” he mused. “I suppose I should rule out a few considering you haven’t thrown one orgy whilst I’ve been here.”

I assume that’s the heart of the matter.

“Not really, no,” the Doomknight replied, voice almost completely monotone.  His plans would be carried out regardless of if the enemy knew about them beforehand, even if he would much prefer that the enemy didn’t.  And even then, whatever Warlic could possibly reveal would only end up unraveling the thread of how exactly he came to obtain the information he was spreading.

But of course the mage didn’t listen to him, preferring to keep talking about whatever his fancy was.  He was gradually finding that to be something Warlic did quite often.

“Not a one?,” he repeated disinterestedly.  The Doomknight carded his clawed fingers, continuing to lean back in his office chair. “Are you certain that’s the truth, or are you simply basing this on not being invited to whatever orgies I might have decided to indulge in?”

“In any case, you still haven’t answered my question.  What is it about my person, past or present, that you find so interesting as to sneak into my office while I’m working and spy on me?”

[knight-not-pawn]

ask-warlic:

Warlic decloaked and appeared somewhere seated in the air off to the right but still in the Doomknight’s vision. He sipped daintily from a small porcelain teacup, painted yellow with delicate flowers on it. He smiled with a look more befitting a cat supping its cream than a man caught at espionage with his bookie. 

“Hello, milord, lovely day isn’t it? Would you like some tea? It’s Ti Guanyin.” He offered. “Anything interesting going on today or will you indulge me?” 

He did glance up this time, briefly.

“You’ve been following me for several days now, Blue Mage.  I would hardly say you’re in a position to be asking for even more of my time.”

And in any case, fancy tea names held no significance to the Doomknight.

He leaned back in his chair, quietly shutting his report files and setting them off to the side.  Warlic didn’t seem to be phased at having been caught, the prick.  Why had he ever agreed to letting the archmage have free roam around his fortress?

Oh, right.  He hadn’t.

“If anyone is in need of an indulgence here, it would be me.  Care to explain what it is about my person that you find so interesting?”

[knight-not-pawn]

The Doomknight was well aware he was being watched.

For whatever reason, the archmage that had so recently become indebted to him had decided to keep an eye on the dead man’s doings whenever he needed to pick up more organs or otherwise treat the symptoms of his numerous bad habits.

Why?  He hadn’t the faintest idea.  But he was getting very tired of it.  Especially considering Warlic wasn’t exactly being subtle about things.

Such as right now.

“I know you’re there, Mage,” he said, not even bother to look up from the reports he was reading.

[knight-not-pawn]

       I was waiting for my hearse,                What came next was so much 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚…

                             It took a 𝖋𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 to make me feel ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

[knight-not-pawn]

Litch

Mikhail Palamarchuk