#dire troll

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

On the left, Derro! These are small dwarves, so like 3-4 ft (0.9-1.2 m), with spells like invisibility, sleep, and mage hand! They're also very dexterous, and can see ultraviolet light. When the mindflayers turned dwarves into duergar, some didn't escape and were abandoned by thier kin once again. Those became the derro. They're clever, stealthy, and suffer from paranoia and mania. They're usually on some sort of strange and obsessive quest, like collecting all of a certain kind of rock, or fighting every penguin.

On the right, Dire Troll! These are trolls that have grafted bits of other trolls onto themselves, or just eaten other trolls! These things are huge, meaning AT LEAST 16 feet (4.9 m) tall. They can have any configuration or amount of any body part! Let your imagination run wild! They also seem to primarily just crave troll meat, so you might be off the menu!

[panjya]

Finished another commission last night, she's a big Krag'wa-following dire troll named Jek'kiwa!

[frutavel]

I'm still working on giving him some proper armor, but since he's pretty much done in the meantime you guys can have this little reference of my Zandalari dire troll, Jarayaca, in his casual wear and in his undies (tumblr exclusive :D)

Yaca is a primal taking after crocolisks and his loa, Mahamba. He is also part of a pair, with his other half being his partner, Ta'haya 💚💙

[findmeinshattrath]

Dire Orcs and Darkspear Dire Trolls in the Horde would be so cool.

[dialga64bitz]

Dire Dire Docks Chapter 6 is out!

Enjoyyy!

[rocksibblingsau]

Slight spoilers? Of Trollex and Synth dynamics in Rock Sibblings

Art by @dialga64bitz! None of these are scenes that will come up in the fic, they're from a discussion of a crossover that I thought you guys would like to see.

Trollex in Rock Sibblings is Synth's king.

That's it.

No really, they are not father and son, but they certainly treat each other like it despite being only about 2 or 3 years apart in age. Synth has no idea why people keep thinking Trollex is his dad/father figure, and Trollex would like Beat Drop to stop making that joke, but in moments of stress Trollex tends to show his actual feelings.

And sometimes slips up and calls Synth his son.

[blueberry-toast-art]

Doodle dump upon ye!!

(Except it's majority Trollex and half technodrums)

TW FOR BLOOD ON 6TH IMAGE!!!

(Y'all I think I like Trollex/j)

AUs in this dump areee:

Everything You Ever (Wanted) AU by @trollexswife

Dire Dire Docks AU by @dialga64bitz

(Y'all better go read both of these AUs rn they are SO GOOD!!)

& Pop Tour AU, which is just mine :3

[secretlizzycookie]

Doddles super rápido

In the scene when synth surfaces for the first time , Diré Dire Docks on ao3

Au by @dialga64bitz

[reversenecromancerart]

May I request art of my Trolls au? 🥺 it's called Dire Dire Docks.

Aaaa so I read the fic and the part where synth is struggling with gravity just stuck in my brain. I just found out about your au today and I'm already so obsessed with it ❤️❤️

[ladyofvoss]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #13: Butte

noun: an isolated hill with steep sides and a flat top (similar to but narrower than a mesa).

Thalia glared at the map in her hands, glancing around at the expanse of rock that surrounded them, before huffing in frustration, the weathered paper crinkling in her hands.

“Careful”, Theo spoke up behind her, tending to their chocobos, her uncle’s tone and mannerisms coming off way too nonplussed, given that they were lost.

“Are you really not going to help?”

Her uncle gave her a look of mock disbelief, eyes wide and everything. “Perish the thought, cub! After all, you insisted on taking the lead here, that at your mature age of sixteen summers you were no longer a child and thus more than capable. And who am I to rob you of the chance of such a rich learning opportunity?”

Alright, so maybe he had a point, and maybe she was far too insistent on being the one to read the map, going as far as to steal it from his saddlebag and sneak it into hers. But still…..

“Well”, Thalia countered with a huff, “if we die of starvation and thirst in the middle of nowhere, mama will be very cross.”

Theo simply reached out to ruffle her hair, unfazed. “Then you better hurry.”

Why was he choosing today of all days to be so annoying?

Fine then, Thalia thought as she returned her attention to the wrinkled map. That was when she noticed it, the flat rocky crop of land jutting out against the brown paper. It was just on the other side of this canyon of rocks they were navigating through.

The V tribe made their home in its shade. And once they reach there they’d be able to replenish supplies and continue on their way.

It was west of them, and judging by the location of the sun, if they were to head in that general direction……

Thalia turned the map this way and that, taking a second look at the way the illustration of the rock canyon twisted, slowly putting together the direction the path took in front of her…..

“I’ve got it!” Thalia announced triumphantly, rolling the map up before bouncing back to place it in her saddlebag, pulling out her compass.

“And not a moment too soon”, Theodard said, rubbing at his throat dramatically, “I fear I’m beginning to grow a touch parched.”

This earned him an exasperated groan and an eye roll as Thalia took her chocobo’s reins from him. “Are you coming or not?” She retorted, before leaving without waiting for an answer, her uncle’s laugh ringing behind her as he followed behind.

[britishassistant]

The Letter Kills (Unless We Do First)

“Ah, there you are, my dear scribe!”

The tiefling child dwarfed by the large wooden desk in the center of the guild hall looks up from her transcription. Her face twists into an expression of resigned politesse

“Welcome back, Guild Master Crowley.” She recites dutifully. “Did you have a pleasant walk?”

Dire Crowley preens as he strides closer to the reception desk. “Some of the fine gentlemen of the Hellriders wished to express their admiration, but regrettably I could not spare the time for them! It is truly a trial, my dear scribe, to be a man in such urgent demand!”

“I’ll take your word for it, Guild Master.” She says, insultingly returning her attention to the documents in front of her. “We’ve received several new requests in the interim. A few are more trouble than they’re worth, like this one to kidnap Archivist Frostsong of Candlekeep for an artificer in Athkatla, but there are some others—”

“Ah-hem!” He holds up a stern finger. “My dear, you should know better than to bother me with such trivialities! I would’ve thought a girl of ten summers would understand the importance of Need To Know.”

He is very fond of phrases like Need To Know.

They make running this mercenary guild so much more easier on him personally.

The child’s face twitches briefly, before she replies carefully. “I’m twelve, Guild Master. And I’m, I’m no—”

“You see?” Crowley shakes his head solemnly, “That’s hardly Need To Know information now, is it? But I shall overlook your misstep, as I am so gracious. Especially given there is an important task for you to complete! One that the future of the Night Raven Mercenary Guild could depend on!”

At this, the junior scribe straightens, finally taking her duties seriously. “A task, Guild Master?”

“Lock the doors, my dear scribe.” Crowley intones. “We must not be disturbed for this.”

The child swallows, before opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out the master key.

She wavers slightly as she trots to the door, steps stumbling and unsure without the tail her species uses to serve as a counterbalance. Or is it perhaps a rudder?

It is hardly information that Crowley Needs To Know, after all.

The heavy lock snaps into place, and the preteen turns to see Crowley perched on the edge of her desk. Trepidation crawls across her features. “What now, Guild Master?”

Crowley reaches into his fine, feathered cloak and withdraws a sheaf of parchment with a flourish. “There is an important missive in dire need of dictation.”

He spares a moment to chuckle at his own joke. Ah, what a witty man he is!

The child’s shoulders tense. “Oh. Any particular reason?”

“Would I ever lead you astray, my dear scribe?” He coos. “But, I will forgive your doubts of my honorable character, as I am so gracious.”

He waits for her to totter back to the desk before laying the parchment before her. “Please note the date at the top left, and this address at the right.”

He is pleased to see that there are no errant smudges of the black ink as her left hand dutifully inscribes what he has demanded.

It had taken him more effort than usual to correct that mistake.

By the time she has finished writing though, that silly pinch in her brow has returned.

“Guild Master, do you truly trust me to hear this? This address, it sounds like it could belong to a patriar of the Gate.”

“That is because it does belong to a patriar of the Gate, my dear scribe.” He smiles fondly at her foolishness. “And one with whom I have a special relationship, so I expect the finest penmanship you have to offer.”

He draws himself upright, clearing his throat a few times to ensure his enunciation is clear. It wouldn’t do to have a word or phrase muddled

“Begin with this: My dear Lord Szarr—“

“Are you sure I should be transcribing this?” The child asks, almost desperately. “I mean, this is, is private correspondence, Guild Master.”

Dire Crowley puffs up like the bird he stole his name from. “Now, what is all this fuss, hm? I had thought you a mature enough girl to handle such a task with discretion and professionalism. Of course, if you no longer wish to keep the position I have so graciously provided you with—“

“No!” The force of the cry seems to startle the junior scribe as much as it does her employer. Remembering herself, she sits, eyes cast down in humility. “No, Guild Master. My apologies. I’ll write it.”

“Wonderful!” He beams. “There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? We will look past this, as I am so gracious. Now, where was I? A-he-hem! My dear Lord Szarr…”

By the time he has finished dictating, the young tiefling’s face has somehow managed to pale a few shades, in spite of the vivid hue of her skin. She traces out the last few lines, gently presses blotting paper to soak up any excess ink, and hands it over for Crowley to examine.

He skims the paper eagerly, chuckling to himself at a few of his favorite lines. How clever he is, to possess a wit that even amuses himself!

“Guild Master…” He is brought out of his musings at the hesitant tone of the tiefling pre-teen. “I, I know it is none of my business, so forgive my curiosity, but. But is it truly alright to send such a missive to a patriar of Baldur’s Gate? His titles alone suggest—“

“My dear scribe, why wouldn’t it be?” Crowley soothes absent-mindedly.

A look of consternation crosses her face. “If I may be plain, guild master, this letter is a gossamer-sheathed dagger to the ribs. Far more brutal and damaging than a naked blade for all the beauty of the language it is clothed in.”

A frisson of glee squirms down Crowley’s spine. “Such a lovely turn of phrase! Why, if it were not so apt you would make me blush!”

“Guild Master.” The irritation in the girl’s voice is almost enough to break his fine mood. “I, I worry. A letter like this is liable to bring down all the hired thugs this Szarr can buy on Night Raven’s heads from High Moor and the Gate’s Undercity, and that’s if he is not overconfident enough to travel to Elturel to try to strangle you himself.”

At this, Crowley cannot help but burst into delighted laughter.

“Oh, my dear young scribe.” He enthuses, wiping away a tear of mirth. “For Lord Szarr to travel to Elturel is as possible as it is for a mortal to travel to the moon! We need never worry about him darkening the guild’s door.”

“I don’t. I’m afraid I don’t follow, Guild Master.” The child says, confused. “The address of the lord’s estate is in Baldur’s Gate. It’s less than a tenday by carriage, surely?”

“Ah, but my dear, sweet scribe.” Crowley shakes his head. “That is because you do not possess that knowledge I have about our dear Lord Szarr. Ah, but how foresighted I am! I almost frighten myself!”

“Knowledge, Guild Master?” The young scribe asks.

Crowley takes great joy in leaning in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Lord Cazador Szarr,” He confides. “Is a vampire.”

The instinctive terror that overtakes the child’s face is delicious. But then he watches as her mind begins to work, begins to consider the implications, possibilities, ramifications. The terror does not recede entirely, but it sinks back to sit in the curve of her thoughtful frown.

“A vampire…but, because the Companion shines over Elturgard—“

“That is correct! He cannot hope to enter the land, let alone the city, without being burnt to a crisp!” He proclaims, cloak billowing impressively as he throws his arms in the air. “And neither can any of his spawn! Even if he attempts to hire outside help, our connections with ahem, local interests, make the pool of would-be retaliators unfortunately small for our dear lord, which is child’s play to monitor!!”

He is overcome with the need to press a hand to his forehead. “Ah, I am such an intelligent man! Hold fast, my dear scribe! Do not faint from awe at my intellect!”

He’s met with nothing but silence, so he supposes the girl’s efforts to do so are too taxing for words.

He reaches the end of the letter, and frowns. “Scribe, this is incomplete.”

“What? But I recorded every word you—“

“Yes, but see?” He gestures to the space under where his signature will reside. “You have failed to credit yourself! I mean, really my dear, letting Lord Szarr think he holds enough import for me to write personally? What is the world coming to?!”

The girl fidgets, discomfort plain on her face. “But Guild Master, I—!”

“No buts!” He thrusts the final page back onto the desk. “Place down here, in small print if you please, transcribed by, your name, junior scribe of the Night Raven Mercenary Guild.”

She stares up at him, little form tense. Those creepy blue eyes burning against black sclera.

“Now, scribe.” He says warningly. “Unless you know of another in the city who would be so gracious as I, to give you employment?”

The creepy stare finally drops as her head falls. He thinks for a moment he’ll need to prompt her again, before the silly girl finally picks up her quill and follows his orders.

“There! That was hardly a trial now, was it?” Dire Crowley beams, plucking up the quill himself and signing with a flourish. “Now, blot that, seal it and have it delivered to the postal courier. You may even use a ten minute break to do so, as I am so gracious.”

He waits for the child to nod slowly. “Thank you, Guild Master.”

As he is a thoughtful man, he adds. “It will have to come out of your lunch hour later, though! We are running a business, after all!”

And with that, Dire Crowley waltzes his way to his quarters on the third floor, mind already intent on the newest novel he’s going to read. It came eagerly recommended to him by a dear friend— this Tusk Love is apparently a creative masterpiece!

His junior scribe could benefit from some more creativity, he muses to himself as he pour a generous glass of Ithbank and settles himself in on the chaise.

After all, of all the nicknames, pseudonyms, and noms de plume to pick from, who but the most insistent dullard would choose the name “Yuu”?

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

LETS GET THIS LOSER'S BRACKET GOING! :D On the left, the Howler! 8 ft (2.4 m) 2,000 pound (910 kg) creatures from Pandemonium known for thier mind-breaking howl. It terrifies creatures, removing their ability for complex thought or action. They feed on fear as much as meat, are actually not particularly aggressive when fed and by themselves, and thier rutting season can be heard for miles even through the howling winds of thier home plane. And yes, while as dumb as an ogre they ARE sentient, capable of understanding language and forming things like truces and work agreements.

The Dire Troll! These are trolls that have grafted bits of other trolls onto themselves, or just eaten other trolls! These things are huge, meaning AT LEAST 16 feet (4.9 m) tall. They can have any configuration or amount of any body part! Let your imagination run wild! They also seem to primarily just crave troll meat, so you might be off the menu!

[panjya]

I drew my guildy Zulah'thek and his "little" brother, Shawk!

[cantsayidont]

December 1977. Given how much Marvel has since pushed Adam Warlock, Thanos, and the Infinity Gems, it's somewhat ironic that Jim Starlin's original Warlock series was rather ignominiously canceled before the story was complete, leaving the conclusion to play out in THE AVENGERS Annual #7 and MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE Annual #2 in the fall of 1977, both magnificently illustrated by Starlin and Joe Rubinstein. Continuing the story into the latter Annual required Starlin to frame his finale as, improbably, a Thing/Spider-Man team-up, but it's Mar-Vell (whose series Starlin had also written and drawn for a while) who delivers the full-page eulogy for Adam Warlock, a minor Kirby character whom Roy Thomas and Starlin had transformed into a tortured cosmic figure, driven by truly existential angst.

Given that Thanos' plot in this story had involved using the combined power of the six Infinity Gems (here still called "Soul Gems") to blow "every star out of the heavens," leaving Adam's vampiric Soul Gem just lying on his grave seems a trifle irresponsible, but at this juncture, Warlock is dead, Thanos has been reduced to a literal monument to his own folly, and none of the survivors understands the full power of the gems. Also, they don't know that the souls of Adam Warlock, Gamora, and Pip the Troll, taken by the Gem before their deaths, now reside in the idyllic landscape of Soul World.

Starlin would subsequently write the end of Mar-Vell in the memorable THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN MARVEL graphic novel in 1982, which returned Thanos as a kind of psychopomp. Alas, Thanos subsequently became too commercially important a villain (in the comics and later in the dreary live-action movies) to ever stay dead or truly learn from his mistakes.

[dialga64bitz]

They've been friends for so long they fight over stupid shit

[blueberry-toast-art]

Oh yeah, starting from Wednesday, I'm leaving for a school service trip to Fiji for like- 2 weeks. I won't have any reception, so you all probably won't hear from me until then.

BUT! Since I am dipping, Imma drop some more art that I've been able to do before I leave.

So art below cut⬇️

!!BLOOD WARNING!!

Dire dire docks fanart. AU fic by @dialga64bitz

Brynth (+Video art is based on)

Technodrums (Only the ones I liked.)

Fifth is fanart for @idiotcream technodrums fic 'All's fair' on Ao3.

EYEW! Trollex from @trollexswife fic and a Poppy :3

That's all! If y'all don't hear from me until then, I'll see you all in two weeks :] byeee!