#half-elf!zephrine

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Wanted to draw the Tiamyran Triumverate together, so I whipped this up. From left to right, we have Sovereign Raishi Voluna, Hierarch Zephrine Lorenthal, and Archmagister Visaryn Shaxarn.

They each rule one major branch of the Tiamryan government, which each represent one of three major aspects of Tiamyran society- Politics, Religion, and Magic, respectively.

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Zephrine Lightblossom, my party's half-elf warlock.

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i wanted to draw some half-elf!zephrine

also, i like women

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Our party is currently headed to Zephrine's (prior) homeland for Politics™ and Stopping Assassinations™ so here she is, in fancy ball attire in her Zephyra disguise! (for Reasons™)

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Wanted to draw Zephrine’s right-hand person, Seneschal Elora Zathrin, bc our party plans on stopping by Tia soon and they’re likely to make an appearance. Also because I love them.

They have the energy of someone who has been doing their job for a very, very long time. Because they have.

Bonus doodles:

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Our party went to a coronation party for an empress they helped put into power, so of course I had to draw Zephrine(in her Zephyra disguise) in a fancy outfit.

It’s not her usual style, but she likes to embrace the local culture! (At least fashion-wise)

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Practicing a more realistic style with Zeph’s half-elf alter ego

I feel like I learned a lot with this, yay improvement!

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More Pixel Art

Barring the first one here, I never uploaded these to tumblr for some reason??? I think I was waiting to do our whole dnd party, but man, I have been working at a snail’s pace on that one SO

New Danyla sprite to showcase her recent changes in-game, and most importantly show her new hat!

New Zephrine sprite I made that... may end up needing adjustments when she becomes active in the campaign again

Half-elf form! I’ll never use this but it was fun to make!

And last for now but not least, @chaoticcomposition​ ‘s Surina, our barbarian lady whomst I love. Complete with her cool sword she took from a dead githyanki

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Decisions

Decision

“Wait, I’m sorry, you want to... what?”

Keriah Auclair peered at the figure in the doorway, a bemused expression on her face.

"I said ‘I want to join the circus!’" Zephrine huffed, hands on her hips, “You know, the one that’s in town? Maman, were you even listening?”

Keriah had barely looked away from the flower arrangement she’d been working on when her daughter had very dramatically entered their home, slamming the door just a little too hard. Now though, she was looking at Zephrine, her attention undivided, brows knit together, her lips pursed.

“No, I heard you, what I mean to ask is…why?”

Zephrine blinked, her face no longer scrunched in indignant irritation. Keriah gestured to the seat across from her on the kitchen table, and slowly she took her place there.

"Oh.. um.” She wrung her hands together, uncertain until she suddenly wasn’t, and her posture and disposition perked up immediately.

“Okay! So, I went over there today, um, after my shift,” She lied, a little, as she’d actually left in the middle of it, “And I was able to talk to some of the performers!”

“I see.” Keriah acknowledged her daughter, and let her continue. If she picked up on Zephrine’s lie, as she was often able to, she made no indication of it.

“And they were really, really nice. And so, so cool! They actually showed me some of their tricks they were working on, and,” She paused her increasingly excited gesturing to smile a bit sheepishly, “And I may have shown them my magic, which, I know, I’m not supposed to because it scares people and sometimes people turn blue or grow wings or things explode but, well, nothing bad happened and they were really impressed!”

Keriah bit her lip, and Zephrine continued.

“And they introduced me to their ringleader, Mr. Lemaire, and he was really nice too. He said he was really impressed, and I had potential! He said I could join, if I wanted!” Zephrine exclaimed, hands balled into very excited fists, before remembering the caveat he’d mentioned.

She grew quieter at the memory, her clenched hands moving to wring around each other again.

“Um, well, if you were okay with it, that is.”

Before Keriah could speak up, Zephrine leaned forward, and pleaded with her.

“Please, Maman, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve never seen such a variety of people. Mr.Lemaire is a halfling, and I think I saw a goliath, and even a cat person!”

“A tabaxi,” Keriah interjected, distantly.

“Yes! And I think they’d actually be okay with.. You know. Me being a dragonborn. I wouldn’t have to look like this-” She gestured towards her half-elven form, a form that was as familiar as it was foreign, “I wouldn’t have to hide all the time. I could see new places, meet new people. I wouldn’t die alone in this town having never seen anything different! I could belong somewhere, for a change!”

As Zephrine pleaded, Keriah looked at her. She bit her lip, hit with a swirl of emotions both new and old. The mild amusement at her exuberance and youth. The fear of what dangers could spring from the shadows. The grief at the mere notion of possibly losing the young woman who she loved and was undoubtedly her daughter, lack of blood relation be damned.

What stuck out most, however, was the pain Zephrine had expressed. The pain her lies had ultimately caused her child, and the bittersweet realization that for her to flourish, it perhaps actually was best for her to see more of the world. She couldn’t protect her forever, as much as she wanted to. Not if Zephrine was to lead a happy life.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled.

“You’re not going to die alone here, Zephrine. And you always have a place here, with me, and the people of this town.”

As her mother’s words sunk in, Zephrine’s expression started to grow crestfallen, but before it could fall completely, Keriah stood up and walked towards her. She gently brushed some stray strands of dark hair from her daughter’s forehead, giving it a gentle kiss.

“But, I will speak with this Mr. Lemaire, and if he is a good person like you say he is, then you can go with him, when the time comes.”

Zephrine stood up abruptly, an exuberant beam of sunshine, and she showered her mother in affection both verbal and physical. Keriah hugged her daughter tight in return, silently afraid that soon she may never do so again.

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Everytime Zephrine goes to a fancy party, I design a new dress for her and become stronger

This time it’s for her Zephyra disguise, where she’s paying cheeky homage to her dragon ancestor :)

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Lion

Zephrine was completely in her element.

Even in the Ascendency, this alien land, with its alien culture, strange gods and stranger priorities, she felt at home. She belonged.

The half-elven Zephyra persona was fake, a performance, but Zephrine wore it like a second skin, practiced and professional. The party she was currently attending with her friends was both incredibly similar and different from the first formal gathering she had attended. It seemed that a fancy party was a fancy party, no matter where it took place. It contained all the same pleasantries and small talk, dances and scandals, silks and finger foods.

The key difference was less the party itself, and more Zephrine’s place within it. The first party she’d attended, the Sky’s Anchor Ball, was meant to be fun, but even before the assassins struck, it was tense, uncomfortable. Zephrine was a simple girl from the country, a small village in a small duchy that few people had even heard of, and yet she was surrounded by people with influence. She maintained a persistent knowledge that she was at the mercy of these people with power, the merchants and nobles and knights who could ruin her life with the snap of their fingers if they so desired. She simply tried to make it through the evening with her reputation relatively unscathed, her ambitions held low.

This time was different. She knew now, long after that first ball, that she was powerful. She knew she was capable, and if someone wished to ruin her life, they would swiftly come to regret their choices. No longer was Zephrine powerless and scared, the helpless lamb in a den of lions. Now, she was just as much a lion as the people surrounding her, and she took both comfort and a subtle pleasure in that.

It was far easier to enjoy the pleasantries of this party with this new realization, despite the imminent danger. She talked, she danced, she obtained important information, and she made a new friend all the while. Each word, each movement was a careful step in a veteran performance, seamless, flawless.

And then someone asked her for a dance.

It seemed rather innocuous at first, and Zephrine met him with a smile, but questions rapidly ran through her mind. Why did he want to dance with her? Did he want something? Or had she simply caught his eye?

She offered her arm, keeping most of her questions to herself, “Of course I will dance with you. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

He was a half-elven man, with brown hair, green eyes and a charming smile. There was nothing particularly notable about him, physically. He would hardly have been of note at all, had he not introduced himself.

“Raymond Sinnad. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Zephyra.”

Zephrine’s winning smile stretched thin. This was the man that Vahzi had warned her about. The only time Vahzi had expressed fear in the decades that she had known her. The only person Vahzi had ever felt it was necessary to warn her about.

Zephrine tread carefully, and let him take her to the dance floor. He was the first to break the initial silence.

“It’s been quite an interesting party so far. Or at least, the guests have been interesting. Not everyone here is as they seem.”

He looked at her intently, still smiling warmly, and Zephrine tilted her head back at him.

"Oh? That’s curious! Who isn't as they seem?"

“Well,” He looked over at the other guests, casually, nonchalant, “There's the doppelganger, masquerading as the Cardinal, which is curious. There's the magister over there… or the magister's son, I should say.” He smirked, amused, “And then, of course there's you.” He looked her in the eye, and a chill went down her spine. “It’s not often you see a dragonborn disguised as a half-elf at a fancy party."

The steps in her dance faltered, and with it came a sense of dread. For the first time during this party, she was vulnerable, exposed to both the elements and the unrelenting gaze of the dangerous stranger before her. Her head drooped slightly, and looked away at something, anything to avoid his intense stare. In all her years of being able to change her form, never had a stranger been able to discern it for what it was.

“I… I would prefer that you not tell anyone,” She finally said, pleading, quiet, “The Ascendency isn’t kind to those who look less human.”

“Oh, I’ve no interest in ruining whatever plans you may have, My Lady. I was simply curious. These parties are usually a bit dull for my taste, but I always enjoy seeing a new face.”

He smiled at her. She smiled back as her skin crawled. “Ah, well, I appreciate you not spreading that knowledge regardless.”

“Of course. You have important things to do, clearly. I won’t keep you from that.”

The conversation’s tone grew more casual after that, but Vahzi’s warning echoed in Zephrine’s mind.

“If you see him, run away, as fast as you can. Do not try and fight him. Promise me.”

As the warning echoed, Sinnad spoke of many things, all about himself, both thankfully and not. He spoke of his time traveling the world. He spoke about his talent as a mage, and his adventures. Grand feats of bravery and destruction, seemingly exaggerated had she not witnessed one of his capabilities herself. From an outside perspective, it was completely normal. To her, it was incredibly unnerving.

Sinnad eventually told Zephrine about his home, a tower amongst the clouds, reclaimed from cloud giants, and invited her to his abode. She politely replied that she would keep it in mind, even though she definitely wouldn’t.

Then, as abruptly as he came, he left, setting her free to her own devices.

Zephrine gave her polite goodbyes, but refused to glance back at his retreating form. She refused to give him more material to work with lest he decide she was to be his next conquest, like the cloud giants or dragons before her. She had questions for Vahzi, for later, but currently she had more urgent matters to attend to. Her focus shifted quickly to the task at hand, the defeat of the New Dawn, but one thought rippled through her mind, to be put away but not forgotten.

If she was a lion, he was a trophy hunter.

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I thought I had uploaded these, but it seems I have not! Some outfits for Zephrine’s half-elf alter ego, Zephyra, along with a vague idea of how her draconic bloodline manifests while she’s all shapeshifted

I would say click for captions but tumblr is a hellsite so there’s only a 30/70 chance of them working lmao

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i like women and i like peaches

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Caught some Keriah feelings so I had to draw her and little Zeph last night

The early days were rough, to say the least

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Carry On

Zephrine almost didn’t recognize her former boyfriend when she saw him behind the bar, but he immediately recognized her. His eyes lit up as he greeted her enthusiastically.

“Is that you, Zephrine?”

Zephrine blinked, and then her face lit up in kind, “Tynan? I barely recognized you!”

Tynan smiled in return, warm as ever, but undoubtedly older, with a grand handlebar mustache that wasn’t there previously and a slightly rounder figure. While Zephrine knew that he would hardly look the same as when she left, it was still somewhat of a shock, somehow moreso than the fact that he’d married her other childhood sweetheart, Julienne, and that they were now parents.

He seemed happy, though, and it didn’t take long for them to start catching up, talking about what had changed and what hadn’t, the good things and the bad, and how strange it was to have Zephrine back in La Rochelle and how strange it was for Zephrine to be back in La Rochelle. 

It took her back to days spent in sunshine and flowers, warm and carefree. Tenderly braiding flowers into Julienne’s hair and feeling butterflies in her stomach as they talked about a future that was never to be, as much as they wanted otherwise. Coyly giggling at Tynan’s terrible jokes when they were supposed to be working, basking in his smile as she nefariously plotted to kiss him beneath the blossoming pear tree when he least expected it. Talking about the cute soldier who was passing through town as her mother stood there quiet, knowing this new crush would go nowhere but clearly not wanting to invoke the wrath of the temperamental teenager next to her.

Back then, the most Zephrine had to worry about was whether someone reciprocated her feelings or whether her new haircut looked intentionally messy or whether her mother would find the broken scissors she hid deep in one of their cabinets behind the pots they rarely used.

She had more worries when she joined the circus, as was natural for someone leaving home for the first time, but even those concerns paled compared to her responsibilities now and the ones in her future. Now it was life and death, and the futures of both the many and the few, and all the little things that added up to a big picture going far beyond herself and further still. She noted the occasional grey hair in Tynan’s unfamiliar mustache, and her smile waned ever-so-slightly. Twelve years suddenly felt like two-hundred.

When it was time to meet Julienne and her newborn son, Palmerin, the smile came back in earnest, but it was hard not to notice the wrinkles around Julienne’s eyes that weren’t there before and weren’t simply from the exhaustion of being a new parent. She looked happy, though, like Tynan, which was a comfort, and little Palmerin was both very small and very adorable.

Physically, she’d barely aged a day. It was hard not to notice. Tynan was no longer the spry youth with a slight baby face, and Julienne was no longer a rebellious teenager, but Zephrine looked more or less the same as when she’d left. A little more mature, and small black scales on her arms that weren’t there before, but still more or less the same as when she left all those years ago.

As Zephrine held Palmerin and cooed over him with Helena, she watched the infant absently grab her claw with his tiny hand. Warmth curled in her chest. Things had changed and were changing, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Her childhood friends wouldn’t be in La Rochelle forever, and she still didn’t look forward to the day she came back and they were gone, but life would continue on here without her. It was humbling, and oddly comforting. 

Up until that moment, Zephrine couldn’t help but focus on the negative, on the fact that she would likely outlive most if not all of the people who currently lived here, that one day she would return and they would be gone. She could see why talk of life span difference was such a somber discussion, and why some might view such a long life as a curse.

Holding Palmerin, though, made Zephrine think to herself that maybe it was a blessing, too, to be able to see people grow and change and live. To see people finding their happiness, achieving their hopes and dreams, over and over. To be able to live with the memory of them and carry them with her, far beyond how long they might be remembered otherwise.

So she would carry on, letting them remind her of why she kept going.

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tfw your wayward daughter sends you a letter saying she worships Tiamat out of absolutely nowhere