#Trannyth

[dungeons-and-d00dles]

Decorative outfit to reflect the prestige this paladin reclaimed after clearing his clan’s name. Custom pauldron for carrying around a precious baby dragon. 

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Trannyth © Twubbles

[the-phantom-of-the-blogosphere]

I’ve been doing concept art for my D&D character Iraster Trannyth, the Eladrin Bard. This is the revised design and the one I prefer, I think that this design manages to capture his youth and his personality. He’s very relaxed and willing to go with the flow but he’s also wary of connecting with others due to his past experiences.

[korborau]

In the Mieran Isles, Tritons have a different lineage, their bloodline is traced back to the demons of the deep. Koros was the first Redscale Triton born in decades, his family is that of higher nobility. Having the firstborn son as a Redscale was scandalous, Koros' mother didn't want him whatsoever instead saying to have another child. His father being a man of honor was dutybound to follow his ancestors' rules. So, he locked Koros away and gave him a teacher to learn about the world outside.

All went well until Koros had enough and attacked his teacher. His father was only left with one option: Throw Koros out onto land. So he did just that, leaving Koros on land with nothing but a cloak, some rations, and finally the family trident. Koros did survive somewhat out of sheer will in the wilds until he met a Hag who took him in and taught him magic. In return he would enact her will on a small hamlet nearby although she was planning on killing Koros after the first month together. As if by the grace of a god, Koros was saved by Eve Trannyth, a Paladin of the Oath of the Crown. She killed the Hag and taken Koros in as her own son since she suffered a wound from Larkin Silverstag that left her unable to have her own children (Larkin Silverstag is a Lawful Evil, High Elf Loremaster - client’s OC that he uses for the backstories of some of his characters).

Eve raised Koros as her own and when he was of age and experience, he swore his allegiance to Baron Ursio von Hollomour, a man of virtue and greatness. For 15 years he served his people and the land to the best he could till his heart gave out. That’s when his son Alfonso von Hollomour inherited his father’s position. He was a greedful and gluttonous man who only cared for his own ambitions and often kept slaves while having his way with the local populous. Koros started to hate him but never acted on his hate for Alfonso until he defaced his master, he was there when she had failed at slaying a nearby wyvern. That night he had witnessed his own master beaten to the point where she had to wear a mask to cover her face.  To make matters worse, Alfonso tried to command Koros to give him his trident as recompense. He told Alfonso he would give him the trident but he just had to clean it for him first.

He went home to see the women that showed him kindness when no-one else would, she who is both his master and mother, who taught even everything he knows. Today she was crying. Not tears of joy  but those of sorrow for failing her lord. Upon seeing this sight something broke inside of Koros; He cleaned off his trident and headed off to the Baron’s Manor. It was a midsummers night so the guards would be drunk out of their mind. Walking up to Alfonso’s study, Koros open the door to see him with the same warpick cane that he had use on Eve earlier. He gave him his trident. The Baron’s eye lit up as he had received an actual Triton trident. He handed his cane to Koros and told to put it inside of the pot by the door. For one moment, Koros blanked out and when he came to, he saw Baron Alfonso on the ground, a bloody mess. He had murdered his lord and broke his oath, the two things he was always warned about by his master, but this … this was the right thing to do. With that, he took back his trident and the warpick cane and rode off into the night as a murder and an Oathbreaker.

…

I know a lot of you are probably wondering what’s with the goat. His name is Messiak and he and Koros met when he decided to buy a pet as companion. Koros is somebody who doesn't know how to show their feelings properly. The only one that has shown him love is his mother Eve and that was more of maternal love. So when he finally felt true love for someone else he started to develop stress trying to go about telling them how he feels. He bought Messiak so he would have a friend in this tornado called Love.

[campaign-chronicles]

Session One: Iraster Trannyth

So far my pride and joy Iraster Trannyth (A.K.A. Wilson) has:

*Evolved to the point where he is no longer the character I had in mind (I still love him anyway).

*Befriended the loose cannon Squen after a chance encounter in a caravan.

*Totally slayed a shrub creature with one hit after Squen disturbed it.

*Saved Squen after he was critically injured by one of the creatures they encountered.

*Managed to keep his pet mouse safe despite being attacked by plant creatures, zombies, and an evil vampire.

*Agreed to go along with everything suggested because he had nothing else to do.

*Attempted to solve a problem by knocking someone out only for that plan to fail and to be knocked out himself.

*Missed the entire final battle.

[dungeons-and-d00dles]

Compilation of events over the entire campaign. Some silly some scary.

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old yellowed paper © fL0urish

[dungeons-and-d00dles]

Trannyth’s dream

[dungeons-and-d00dles]

When you’re perfectly happy with your current party and not ready to trust the newcomers. 

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Trannyth © Twubbles

[palette-polaroids]

Maybe one day.

Qast Focritt and Magiries Trannyth, from the Magistrates of Stormgate. 

[palette-polaroids]

Secundus thought it might be a good idea to be test subjects of a magical Institute for cash. We foresaw floppy bunbun ears on Maggie. She probably nibbles them when she's anxious. Magiries Trannyth, warlock From the Magistrates of Stormgate.

[campaign-chronicles]

Currently the only character in our campaign with official art is Iraster Trannyth/Wilson, the Eladrin Bard. The art looked better before it was colored in but this version is pretty decent. 

[campaign-chronicles]

Intro to the campaign chronicles

Yesterday two of my friends and I started our first D&D campaign. It was pretty fun and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would have, some pretty wild stuff happened too. The aforementioned wild stuff is mainly the reason I started this blog, I wanted to help share the experience that I had during my first campaign and I wanted to keep track of everything that has occurred.

As noted by the the title of this blog: The Bard, The Ranger, and The Rogue are the adventurers in this campaign. The Bard is an Eladrin named Iraster Trannyth (A.K.A. Wilson) who wants to hit it big playing the bagpipes. The Ranger is the oldest in the group, he’s an exiled Prince named Rael. The Rogue is a Half- Orc name Fük Waad Squenson (A.K.A.- Squen) who plans on going to the capital in order to kill all nobles, he’s basically a loose cannon and the source of most crazy events.

[halforc-mercenary]

Everything will be okay. -Markhel

Send “everything will be okay” to take care of my injured muse. 

Mar sat topless on something that was suppose a table but had been pragmatically turned into a surgery couch, that was everything from stonehard to icecold, but not a couch. The young woman pressed her linenshirt to her chest and counted with her muscles tensed like an animal ready to jump to a attack, the seconds Markhel eyed the wounds on her back that had been stitched unlearned, clumsy, unskilled.  The older man had worked as a Healer since Northrend and Mar admired- envied!- his kindness and calmness so she knew that he had seen worse and therefor could keep his temper. And he did, his voice did not even change. Almost at least: “Who did this to you, Mar?”Mar peered over her broad shoulder, even thought she was chastely covered, she felt shelterless and naked with his eyes on the still bloody clawmarks. She did not liked that: “A Worg. I am sure you have already seen Worgs, Sir Trannyth.”A muscle twitched in the older mans face and something that could almost be anger sneaked over his features, for a second Mar could almost see the bitter young  man in Northrend she had never met, but who was still in Markhel somewhere like a ingrown thorn in the foot that sometimes stitched. A Worg had ´sewed´ those ´stitches´? , the older Halforc did not asked this conundrum of oozing sarcasm , maybe because he was not someone who would give in to open sarcasm or maybe because Mar already knew that the stitches on her back were bad and would lead to scars that would eventually restrict her movements with thick, plump scarpattern.Instead the young woman just added with a moody grunt: “The stitches were made by a Healer-” Had she just seen a flicker of snideness haste over Markhels face, when she mentioned the mess of stitches on her back was the work of a ´Healer´? “- and the wounds were cut by a Worg before the Healer did their work.”For a moment the other Halforc was quiet, then she heard his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor as he collected his instruments to reopen the cuts and sew them closed properly, so they could heal smoothly: Scissors, scalpel, Needles, silktheard, vinegar for desinfection, steelfloweroinment, Tampons and aseptic bandage.“Everything will be okay.” He said, while Mar heard the instruments clatter on the desk behind her. 

Mar feared that she would cry out when she would open her mouth just a littleand for a second she just wanted to run away and live with the messed scarpattern on her back, but  she pressed her lips together until her jaws ached and looked over her shoulder, glaring defiantly.

@wanderersofazeroth

[palette-polaroids]

Colored the commissions of Secundus Concoctus I had made at a convention!

From top to bottom, these biscuits are A'eden Lladel (rogue), Magiries Trannyth, (warlock), and Enya Hildebrand (barbarian)!

Trying to to improve on how I shade skin after mentally flopping on the the lovely art from a friend and other great artists. Absorb, absorb--like sponge.

[palette-polaroids]

Stormgate kitties, ready to prowl. Supah quick sketches because work is mind-numbing.

[palette-polaroids]

Kassim: *spits on hand* Do we have a deal? Maggie: ........

[halforc-mercenary]

How do you feel now that you reunited the brothers, Markhel and Ragnar, together?

A frown draw a long line between the Halforcs thick, bushy eyebrows. Her voice was as sharp as a blade as she said: “While Sir Trannyth and Sir Whiteclaw do look very alike, there is no proof that they are brothers. It would be honourles to wake any hope in one of them.”

She cleared her throat, staightening her back like she was saluting: “Accordingly I did nothing else than making two of my companions meet and that is not a happening I should feel anything sepcial towards. Happy about this answer, Sir Greyface?”