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Dedication- CORE Data (Humantale P14)
"Hey, babe, uh... I gotta talk to you..."
"I know."
"I... fuck, I'm sorry... it's taken me all day to get up the courage..."
"Breathe, Sans. And put the bottle down. You've been drinking since noon."
...
February 9th, 213X
...
The room was tilting. Not violently, but just that little, barely-noticeable bit that made Sans feel dizzy and mildly ill. His skin felt too hot even after he'd thrown off his sweater and hoodie. Now in a black tanktop and jeans, shoes discarded by the door, he was sitting at the table, head on his arms as he stared at three beer bottles, two empty and one nearly so. They were only a small remnant of his day, drinking like it was his job for hours. Now nearly eight o' clock, he felt awful. The comfortably numb and buzzed state he was looking for had never surfaced, instead letting him fall deeper down a hole of uncertainty and hopelessness from the previous day.
After meeting with their friends and family, Sans and Frisk had retreated to Sans' home in Snow
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Literature
Mr. Grim (Paranormal Experience)
Friday, September 29th, 2017
Approximately 3:00am
Grand Rapids, Michigan, USA
Hello, everybody. My name is Taiylor, I'm a 22-year old female from Michigan, USA. At the start of summer this year, I got a job at a factory inspecting plastic car trim as it comes off the molding press belt. I work third shift, which takes place from 10:30pm to 6:30am at my particular plant. I'm writing this just as I've gotten home because the details are still fresh in my mind, but I don't think I'll forget them anytime soon.
Today (or yesterday, rather, because my 'Friday' starts on Thursday night), I went to work pretty feeling pretty chill and excited for the weekend, thinking about my usual Dungeons & Dragons planning and what I'll be writing and working on when I get home for the campaigns I'm running. My mind was way off in Neverland thinking about green hags and owlbears for four and a half hours of my shift. In between talking to coworkers here and there as they passed, my mind wasn't on the p
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D+D- Haras Geographical Map (Homebrew World) AC by TaiylorWallace D+D- Haras Geographical Map (Homebrew World) AC :icontaiylorwallace:TaiylorWallace 2 0 D+D- Haras Political Map (Homebrew World) AC by TaiylorWallace D+D- Haras Political Map (Homebrew World) AC :icontaiylorwallace:TaiylorWallace 2 0 D+D- Haras Political Map (Homebrew World) by TaiylorWallace D+D- Haras Political Map (Homebrew World) :icontaiylorwallace:TaiylorWallace 2 0

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TaiylorWallace
Taiylor R. Wallace
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
While I'm primarily a writer, I do love drawing. I tend to draw fan art of whatever games I'm playing or whatever I'm obsessed with at the moment! My writing usually keeps to fiction and poetry, especially fantasy, but sometimes a little creative non-fiction gets in there.

I am a Senior at Northern Michigan University, Majoring in English Writing with a Fiction and Poetry focus, and Minoring in Native American Studies.
Interests
Hey, everybody!

So considering the kind of things I paint and draw, it should be no great surprise that one of my great loves in life is gaming. Dungeons & Dragons and video games are my bread and butter for fueling entertainment and creativity. So I decided to start a YouTube Channel with the goal of sharing this love of gaming, named after my favorite type of video game: Indies.

I have officially created Indiechronism, a channel dedicated to gaming of all kinds, but with a front-and-center of Indies. I hope to add other types of games as we go, and even DnD stuff in time. But I'm also holding onto my artwork on the side. I wanted to come here to let you guys know about this passion project, because I know a good few of you and hope you'll like my work. Right now, I have House Flipper up, and I'm working on a few other potential items.

If you'd like to visit, please go to Indiechronism on YouTube under my usual username TaiylorWallace.

And if you have any suggestions for future games or content, please let me know here or there!

Potential future series:
Minecraft: SevTech Ages
Kingdom Come: Deliverance
Subnautica

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Activity


Hey, everybody!

So considering the kind of things I paint and draw, it should be no great surprise that one of my great loves in life is gaming. Dungeons & Dragons and video games are my bread and butter for fueling entertainment and creativity. So I decided to start a YouTube Channel with the goal of sharing this love of gaming, named after my favorite type of video game: Indies.

I have officially created Indiechronism, a channel dedicated to gaming of all kinds, but with a front-and-center of Indies. I hope to add other types of games as we go, and even DnD stuff in time. But I'm also holding onto my artwork on the side. I wanted to come here to let you guys know about this passion project, because I know a good few of you and hope you'll like my work. Right now, I have House Flipper up, and I'm working on a few other potential items.

If you'd like to visit, please go to Indiechronism on YouTube under my usual username TaiylorWallace.

And if you have any suggestions for future games or content, please let me know here or there!

Potential future series:
Minecraft: SevTech Ages
Kingdom Come: Deliverance
Subnautica
"Hey, babe, uh... I gotta talk to you..."

"I know."

"I... fuck, I'm sorry... it's taken me all day to get up the courage..."

"Breathe, Sans. And put the bottle down. You've been drinking since noon."

...
February 9th, 213X
...

The room was tilting. Not violently, but just that little, barely-noticeable bit that made Sans feel dizzy and mildly ill. His skin felt too hot even after he'd thrown off his sweater and hoodie. Now in a black tanktop and jeans, shoes discarded by the door, he was sitting at the table, head on his arms as he stared at three beer bottles, two empty and one nearly so. They were only a small remnant of his day, drinking like it was his job for hours. Now nearly eight o' clock, he felt awful. The comfortably numb and buzzed state he was looking for had never surfaced, instead letting him fall deeper down a hole of uncertainty and hopelessness from the previous day.

After meeting with their friends and family, Sans and Frisk had retreated to Sans' home in Snowdin along with Papyrus and Mettaton, deciding to stick together as a group for a while. While the two men hadn't said it, Frisk and Sans knew Papyrus and Mettaton wanted to make sure they were okay. After all, they were most likely to be targets of Chara's interference. But at least for the day after all the bad news and the car accident, Papyrus and Mettaton had left the other couple alone aside from a check-in before they each went out. Mettaton had warned Frisk gently to make sure Sans didn't drink too much, but hadn't interfered. And while Frisk had kept an eye on Sans, they hadn't stepped in til now.

And now, they were sitting across the table. Sans couldn't make himself look up yet. He hadn't looked Frisk in the eye for longer than a few seconds since his visit to Chara. Still, Frisk waited quietly, patiently, for their partner to gather his thoughts and speak.

"Uh..." Sans began, and immediately realized he had no idea what he was going to say. "I... um..." He lifted his head off his arms, staring down at them rather than looking at Frisk. "When I... y'know, went with Tori... I wasn't ready..."

"I don't think anyone could've been," Frisk murmured, watching Sans struggle internally. Frisk already had a few ideas as to what had caused their partner to suddenly retreat, and so they'd given Sans plenty of space that day.

"I mean, I was ready to go in there. I was ready for anything... I thought. I'd gone over all my abilities, what worked best against Chara way back then, what I could use to stop them rather than hurt them, for Tori's sake at least... But I wasn't ready to... see them."

Frisk's brows furrowed. "See them?"

"You guys were like twins when you were little... Shit, I almost mistook you for them a few times when you were nine. And you guys look way different now. You're darker, way taller, athletic... Chara's this shrimpy, skinny little pale thing, their hair's lightened up... but... Fuck, it's stupid, but-"

"Their face," Frisk interrupted softly, their own deep brown eyes reflecting something between guilt and deep concern. "And those eyes."

"I don't know, babe... Like I said, they're thinner. Gaunt, even. Their face isn't quite the same shape, but... just some little details... if I hadn't looked into it myself, I'd swear you two are related. Cousins, siblings even. And... in the wrong light... their eyes can look just like yours..." Sans' head dipped again, his forehead resting on his arm. "It's so stupid, Frisk. I'd never mistake you for them now, but... I remember when you guys were kids... Before I knew you well..."

"You're allowed to be scared of the same thing happening, Sans," Frisk murmured, their eyes drifting to where the top end of the huge slashing scar showed on Sans' collarbone. "They dressed up like me and used our friendship back then to get close, and they nearly killed you. I'm still scared too. They had so much power... they lured me away from Toriel and..." Frisk sighed. "If she hadn't found me, I'd have bled to death at best..."

Sans finally looked up as Frisk's head bowed. He knew the story well. He remembered it every time he saw Frisk shirtless. A then-tiny, nine-year old Frisk had wandered off in the middle of the night into the forest at the foot of Mt. Ebott near Toriel's home. Frisk had claimed it was a red firefly that they followed, a curious sight even if it hadn't been deep winter. They'd been mesmerized, scrambling over a frozen creek and through briar thickets and getting scratched up and exhausted til they reached a clearing and saw a single, small figure awaiting them.

The way Frisk had told it afterward, in shock and unwilling to let Toriel leave them for a moment, they saw the red firefly vanish into the figure's back. Then, the figure turned to reveal bright red eyes, a wicked smile, and a destroyed straitjacket hanging in tatters around them over their green striped sweater. And in their hand was a red, bloody kitchen knife. It had been only a month since Chara had been committed to an asylum for attempting ritual suicide and trying to take Asriel with them. Now, their clothes spattered with blood from dead orderlies and doctors, they stared death and glee at Frisk in the snowy night.

Frisk had tried to flee, but the thickets had caught them up while Chara seemed to glide through, their unstable power causing branches to wilt into dust before the thorns ever touched them. Frisk had gotten tangled when Chara caught up, and Frisk struggled to turn and run once more, only to feel a sudden, deep pain lance through their spine. Frisk collapsed in the thorny mass of plants, bleeding profusely as Chara drew the knife back and left them to die. It was an hour before fiery magic burned around Frisk and freed them from the thicket, and they were carried away to the hospital in Toriel's arms. Somehow, Frisk escaped without permanent injury, the knife having missed everything vital, only striking alongside vertebrae and missing the actual spinal cord by centimeters. The worst complication had been a tiny bone chip and a cold, and of course the horizontal scar across the center of Frisk's back, but Frisk hadn't had time to recover before Chara's rampage continued toward the CORE. In the final fight, Sans and Frisk both came away with vicious slashes across their chests, nearly dying of bloodloss in the CORE even while they held Chara off and prevented them from attacking the CORE itself. Sans' own wound had come from approaching Chara, thinking they were Frisk. A good number of their friends had thought Frisk and Chara were working together, thanks to Chara's trickery. Sans had come to the CORE looking for a fleeing Frisk to bring them home.

...

"Hey, kiddo... listen, buddy, Toriel's real worried. Let's go home, okay? I know you didn't do this. Any of this." Sans slowly approached the small figure in their signature blue and pink sweater.

"I hurt people." The voice came out watery and shaky, and Sans' heart clenched with sympathy for their position. So many people thought they were in league with the real monster, just because Frisk refused to fight or hurt Chara.

"No, you didn't. You've been trying to save everyone, even Chara. C'mon, pal..." Sans opened his arms as the child turned, glancing from the shadow of their ruffled bangs at his open posture. "Bring it in..." Sans offered a sad smile, but it calmed as the nine-year old stepped forward and buried their face in his chest. "That's it, bud... We can sort this all out. We just gotta stick together, right? I'll see you through-" Sans stopped short as a sharp, cold pain ran through his side, under his ribs. He couldn't pull back before the cold blade slashed upward diagonal, finally leaving his skin when it bounced off his collarbone. Sans collapsed backward, his shirt ripped open just like his torso as blood coated his entire front. "F-Frisk..." It was all he could whisper as the iamge before him shifted. The sweater turned green, splattered with crimson, and a knife had appeared in the child's hand. The most striking change, however, was those eyes. Those red, murderous eyes that had only a moment ago been gentle brown, brimming with tears.

...

Sans only realized he was spacing out when Frisk's hand reached out to touch his cheek. For a moment, he met those familiar brown eyes, deep with the capacity to love, forgive, and sympathize. It was comforting to see them, instead of the demonic red. So Sans held their gaze for a long time, barely blinking even as Frisk rose and came around the table to kiss him. Finally Sans' eyes drifted closed and he leaned back to simply accept Frisk's attention. When they drew back a few inches, Sans heard their soft voice. "I love you."

"I love you too, Frisk." Sans looked up again finally, and was secretly relieved to see Frisk was still Frisk. No tricks of magic or his mind, no red eyes, no green sweater, and no knife. Just Frisk Shale, his partner in crime as a child and his partner in life as an adult. "I love you," Sans repeated more softly, rising from his seat while his hands took hold of Frisk's waist and he pressed close. His forehead touching to Frisk's collarbone, Sans pressed a kiss to their chest where the skin was exposed by a loose tanktop. Sans realized, with a small smile, it was one of his own shirts. Frisk liked to wear them around when they had nowhere to go.

Frisk's arms draped around their lover's shoulders easily, and they leaned into his embrace with a long, tired sigh. "What will I do with you, Sans?"

"This is pretty nice..."

"Having a drunk masochist for a boyfriend isn't easy, you know."

"Heh... and it isn't easy for a guy like me to keep up with a well-balanced, responsible person like you. You're just as much trouble to me."

"And you like it that way. As I said- masochist." As Sans looked up, Frisk met him with another kiss and reached down to catch his belt in their fingers, giving him a little tug to get him moving toward the stairs. "And as I remember it, being drunk has never stopped you from being a good stress-reliever. So march." Frisk gave him a nudge and Sans grinned like a fool, strolling lazily along despite Frisk's urging. It wasn't til Frisk pulled his belt loose and pulled off his shirt that Sans finally scampered upstairs toward his room with Frisk on his heels. They needed this, he thought to himself as he heard Frisk shut the door and throw off their own shirt. It was how they worked through stress most times, how they took the edge off their few arguments and fights, and how they solidified their confidence that no matter what, they'd always face everything hand-in-hand.

...

"They must be asleep, I guess."

Mettaton arched a perfect eyebrow at Papyrus as they set down a few bags of groceries in the kitchen. "Sans, asleep before three in the morning? I doubt it. It's only ten o'clock." Each shed their jackets, scarves, and boots before putting their purchases away. "I've known that man to go to bed as late as noon the next day."

"Weirdly enough, he actually evens out a lot around Frisk," Papyrus mused, turning to look through the mail he'd brought in along the way. "He tends to follow their example. I think it's because he likes the idea of not sleeping alone anymore, so he goes to bed when Frisk does. That, and he doesn't like to sleep through time he could be spending with Frisk when they're both free."

"I might be jealous if you weren't the same way. Both of you boys are soft, romantic dopes," Mettaton teased, his black-painted lips curling into a smile as Papyrus blushed lightly.

"We take care of our own," Papyrus explained quietly. "Always have."

"I know, baby. Out of necessity as much as love. While I've never been pleased with the circumstances as to why, I'm kind of glad you two turned out to be such loving men. Even if Sans is a lazy asshole half the time, he's a good guy. And you're a dreamboat." As Papyrus' blush deepened, Mettaton laughed softly and stepped forward to wrap his arms about the taller man's neck. "Papyrus Skjallar, the most handsome man in Delta, if not the whole world. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve a gentleman like you. And not just because you're pretty."

Papyrus couldn't help a goofy, bashful grin as Mettaton kissed his cheek. "Well... I always believed as a kid that my friends all deserved the best in life. And if you think I'm the best for you... well, I'm honored. You're a really great guy, you ought to get the person you want, even if I can't believe it's me half the time."

"You are far too sweet for your own good, Papy. It's funny, you know..." Mettaton's gaze fell to his chest. "I've heard other men say similar things... but none of them ever meant it. They just said it to get me into bed, or to cling onto a relationship that wouldn't work."

"But I do mean it," Papyrus insisted worriedly, quickly reassured with a kiss that made him relax and close his eyes. He felt Mettaton's forehead press to his own, and both men stood like that for a few seconds of silence, eyes closed and minds suddenly quieted.

"I know you do, baby," Mettaton murmured, a smile returning to his lips. "You always mean it. You've never lied to me, you can barely stand to hide surprises from me. That's what makes you so different..." He lifted his head and they met one another's eyes again. "... Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," Papyrus nodded, though he was worried at Mettaton's soft, forlorn tone all of a sudden.

"You know Sans and I were together for a long time."

"Yeah."

"And you've never been bothered by that?"

"Uh... should I be? You two were what the other needed at the time, you said it yourself after we started dating."

"Well... I have a little confession to make... about us, him and us."

"Okay." Mettaton looked up once more at Papyrus' innocent and gentle expression, and offered a guilty smile.

"I still love your brother to death." When Papyrus smiled, Mettaton felt a little confused.

"I know," Papyrus chirped. "It's hard to get over a relationship like that. You guys loved each other so much, but you let go because you knew you didn't fit well. Sans talked to me about it once... he wasn't in a good place, and he didn't want to drag you down. He said he was too unstable, he drank too much, he smoked... And he was depressed, even more then than he is now." Papyrus' tone grew a little sadder. "He and I have the same outlook on the people we care for- you all deserve the absolute best. And Sans knew he wasn't the best for you, even if you two were in love, even if you still are. But I don't think either of you knew back then that it was a good decision to part ways, especially when you ran into some really bad boyfriends. Sans found- well, not found, but you know what I mean- he found Frisk... And... you found me. It turned out okay, right? I'm happy as can be with you, and Sans is... Well, he's not doing well, he's still working through a lot of things. But having Frisk makes him get out of bed and try harder, because Frisk proved to him that he's worth someone's love and time, something none of the rest of us could do, not even me or you. So I guess, in short... I'm glad you still love him. He deserves to be loved, even if it's platonic now. And he still loves you. He's said as much, on several occassions, and he said that he was happy that you finally had someone who'd really take care of you. Which I always will."

Mettaton listened in silence to Papyrus' explanation, finding no tinge of jealousy in anything the younger man said. He was shocked, honestly, but at the same time he remembered this was his Papyrus, the adorable goof whose only grudge was against punching bags, which he promptly apologized to if he felt he got too energetic and damaged them in his kickboxing.

Mettaton smiled once more, though it was a little sad. "The reason I wanted to say it, Papy... was because I used to think Sans was the best I'd ever had, and I gave him up. I thought that for a long time, even a while into dating you. I compared every man to Sans, the way he looked after me, the way he managed to be the best and laziest man I knew at the same time. He took such good care of me, just by being there when I needed him. We didn't talk all that much, honestly. Our relationship was pretty quiet most of the time. It was about being together, eating bad takeout, and singing in the car, but never really talking. The night we decided to split up if I ever found someone else I was interested in... I was shattered. And I don't think I recovered, really. And when I dated Roland... God, I missed Sans every moment."

Papyrus held Mettaton tighter at the mention of Roland, an abusive, controlling ex of his. "Sans came in and rescued me... took me to the hospital... I got up the courage to ask him to get back together, but he told me it wasn't right. He wasn't right for me. I was so mad, so broken up, I went back to Roland. And Sans had to save me again."

"M..." Papyrus muttered. "You don't have to talk about it anymore if it hurts..."

"I want to talk about it. I want you to know why I run to Sans when I'm scared, why I check the locks three times at night, why I flinch when men I don't know get too close. Sans is the only reason I'm not a complete wreck, and why I can still be a performer even when I'm terrified of most men in those clubs and bars. Any one of them could be another Roland. But I'm secure in the knowledge that Sans will be there in a flash to save me if I can't save myself. And now I know you'll be there too. You have been there, even if it didn't turn into a fight. I suppose I'm more in love with the defender Sans is, than the boyfriend he was. I owe him so much... and I'm so happy he found someone so wonderful and understanding. Even as kids, he and Frisk were a great team. Even when they grew apart for a while, either would drop everything to go help the other. Sans is by no means perfect, and Frisk has their own issues, sure... but they're a perfect match. And I'm really starting to think we are too."

Papyrus smiled softly at that, hugging Mettaton tightly once more with a content sigh as the shorter man relaxed in his arms. Mettaton's slim fingers traced down his back, and Papyrus murmured, "Me too, M."
Dedication- CORE Data (Humantale P14)
Hey, I'm alive!

---


PART ONE            
Every Year
Every Year- CORE DATA (Humantale Pt1)
“SANS!”
    “Whaaaaaaat…?”
“Get off your lazy ass and come help me!”
            “But I’m working.”
“You’re sleeping at your post as usual.
 
January 9th, 213X
 
            Slowly dragging himself from his chair in the sentry station, Sans tucked his hands into his hoodie pockets and strolled out the side door to see Undyne waiting for him with crossed arms and a scowl. “’Sup, Undyne?” He asked with his usual lazy, wide grin. The tall and slender woman’s single piercing eye glared down at him and she straightened her black uniform jacket with clear annoyance.
            “I just got a call from Asgore that Asriel’s gone missing, slipped out of the castle when no one was loo


PREVIOUS:
Gather
Gather- CORE Data (Humantale P13)
            “Sans is no fool. If he sees a threat in Chara, I believe him.”
            “That little fucking-“
            “… William…?”
            “Yes, Frisk?”
            “He should be back by now.”

February 8th, 213X

            “Looks like he got cut across the chest somehow. Otherwise, he’s just fine. Clipped a tree, but it’s all pretty minor. He’ll be out in a second, just double-checking with a professional that he’s alright.”
            “Thank you, officer,” Frisk nodded with a sig


NEXT:
(TBA)


---
CORE DATA Prelude:
Supplemental Log- CORE DATA(Humantale Fanfic Pre1)
    C:/AUDIO/HEADSTAFF/GASTERWilliamD/AUDIOlogs/213X/Supplemental/
        1 January-March
        2 April-June
        3 July-September
        4 October-December
Open 1
OPENING ‘1 January-March’
    C:/AUDIO/HEADSTAFF/GASTERWilliamD/AUDIOlogs/213X/Supplemental/1 January-March
        1.1 Core Central Readings
        1.2 Core Central Readings Contd
        9.1 Temperature Data
        9.2 Pressure Data
        COR

---

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Humantale is a fanmade AU of Undertale.
CORE Data is my own fanfic.
Original Undertale Characters & Locations © Toby Fox
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Dungeons + Dragons- Mauli
(Note: the green markings only show up when his Aasimar power is activated. I currently play him as a Scourge Aasimar, but he serves no god. Also his main inspiration may or may not have been Avi Kaplan.)

An Aasimar (Human and Goliath parents) Order of the Mutant Blood Hunter, Mauli is one of my newer and more interesting characters whose origin lies in a Witcher original character of mine that I played with in some short stories around the School of the Bear.

Born to an herbalist and a witch-hunter, Ithayne Sebastien Jayed Lothard-Maulinark grew up as a member of the upper-middle class in the Kalidrasian kingdom of Eschalien on the west coast. Among the few nations on the continent not inhabited by a majority of elves and ruled by them, Eschalien was a monarchy whose royal family was controlled by a Church of Arathis. As a devout member of the church and a killer in its name, Ithanyne's father Soranus Cain Lothard secured a place for his son among the church as well from birth. Ithayne was baptised in the Architect's Cathedral, the largest holy structure in Eschalien and the seat of the Grand Architect, the highest priest of Arathis on the continent. But from the side, Ithayne's mother was not so pleased.

Eschalien was a country in which the use of non-divine magic was punishable by death. Only approved magicians under the Grand Architect's thumb were allowed to practice and use other magicks, and they were often disposed of eventually regardless. Ithayne's mother Laurana Kaylene Maulinark, found this all not only hypocritical, but tyrannical. Even magicians from outside Eschalien had to submit to either constant guard or wearing anti-magic gloves locked to their wrists while in the country, and even then they might be accused just for some disgruntled citizen's joy when the visitor burned at the stake. No one was immune to the danger, either, Laurana knew. Diplomats, ambassadors, even other rulers, could be killed for using unapproved magicks. Such murders resulted in constant war and little trade, but also in the deaths of important people such as researchers and doctors using magic to learn and apply cures to diseases. Laurana was one such doctor, cleverly disguised as a common herbalist. As a goliath, even a rather small one, she tended to stand out, so she was very careful to hide her true arcane abilities. It was perhaps the fact that her husband became a church-approved witch hunter that protected her identity most, though she deeply resented Soranus for this. He never knew she was a 'witch' til the day she asked to be separated from him. While he kept her secret, he also used it as blackmail as Ithayne was a toddler at the time and Laurana was pregnant with Ithayne's younger sister, and Soranus wanted to keep his children close enough that they would not be outcasts or enemies of the church like their mother.

By the time little Ziva Roslin Ariadne Maulinark was born, Laurana was independent and entirely dedicated to two things: family and research. News of a major strain of plague had come to her, and she was intent on stopping it before it reached her family and friends. With the aid of a secret order of like-minded, closeted mages known simply as the Owl Ward, Laurana developed not only a vaccine for the healthy, but a cure for the sick. Young Ithayne, who did contract the plague, only suffered from it for two weeks before he was healthy and back outside playing.

Outside of his parents' conflicting work, Ithayne was an odd child. From birth, he had been pale compared to his parents, and strange marks occasionally appeared all over his body in times of stress or fear. At age six, white wings suddenly sprung from his back when he fell from a third-story window, just slowing him down enough not to sustain injury before they disappeared but a minute later. As a witness to this, Soranus felt panicked, and he rushed his son to the Architect's Cathedral to discover and potentially hide whatever kind of magic this was. His appeal was taken all the way to the Grand Architect, and Soranus was ordered to hand Ithayne over to a group of mages in the church's employ, which Soranus did happily. He gave no complaint even as Ithayne was held for months like a prisoner, experimented on and even tortured as a means to get his strange abilities to show. When it was discovered that he was an Aasimar, Ithayne was finally released back to his father. Soranus was widely honored and even promoted several ranks, touted as a man so devoted to Arathis, that the Goddess had given him a son with angelic blood. Ithayne, however, was treated like a tool and given no honors. Instead, he was ordered to begin training to become a cleric of Arathis. Scarred, scared, and deeply wounded by his father's lack of compassion, Ithayne fled in the middle of the night to find his mother who had been unable to find him at all after Soranus took him.

Ithayne was found wandering the streets two days later by a fellow named Walter Rodara, a member of the Owl Ward and one of a dozen helping Laurana search for Ithayne. While the boy was terrified at first, he was coaxed to follow Rodara til they arrived at an old run-down tavern. A trapdoor and a stairway later, they entered a secret underground complex, the Owl Ward's own small fortress of magicks and research. Tiny Ziva came toddling out first to her brother, followed quickly by Laurana who swept both children up and promised never to let Soranus touch them again, or the church for that matter.

The rest of Ithayne's childhood was a battle to keep him out of the hands of the church and Soranus, so little Ithayne was stuck indoors and constantly by his mother's side til he reached age 12. Soranus brought his witch-hunters in the middle of the night under orders to seize Laurana. She had been found out, a member of the Owl Ward had turned against them all and half the Order had been captured or killed already. And part of Soranus' job now was to take Ithayne again for testing as it was now unsure if he was an Aasimar of Soranus' god, or some illegal deity that Laurana supported.

Laurana had no choice but to unleash her magic and destroy half the witch hunters before she could escape with her children. It was the first time Ziva and Ithayne saw death, and the first time in a very long time that Laurana was forced to kill. By the time they got away to a hidden Owl Ward safehouse, Laurana was ready to break down and her children came to comfort her. While Laurana was strong of will and purpose, it hurt her deeply to kill as her entire mission in life was to prevent needless death. And while the witch hunters were some of the worst people in the kingdom, she knew they were a product of their environment, taught to hate and fear mages by unfair laws and a few bad apples.

The little family hid for days til Walter Rodara found them and helped them flee the city. Laurana began making a new life on the frontier of Gharrad Eldithas in a village called Feyeddys, home to a little church of Rhiannon and a bunch of settlers working in farming or lumber. Here, Laurana quietly established herself as an herbalist and healer. As magic was not outlawed outside the bounds of her former kingdom, she could practice openly. Slowly, the remainder of the Owl Ward trickled into the village and its neighbor, Morys. The communities grew to love Laurana and the Owl Ward, but kept them a careful secret. Even the wardens who protected the towns made the Ward members a carefully-guarded secret. Ithayne and Ziva began learning trades when they were old enough, feeling it was safe enough to try to be normal for a while. Ithayne became Walter Rodara's apprentice, working in alchemy and strange medicines, while Ziva apprenticed to Laurana as a druid in the making. Both children showed talent for magic, but of very different kinds. Ziva enjoyed natural magicks and healing, while Ithayne understood blood magicks. Laurana feared what he might become or do with this knowledge, but Walter kept him in close check.

Walter, being a Blood Hunter himself, slowly taught Ithayne his ways and his story. Walter had been practically bred and raised to join the witch hunters of Eschalien, but he had turned coat early in life at 20 when he'd been captured by the Owl Ward. Rather than killing him or wiping his memory, they showed him kindness, kept him fed and warm, and tried to explain their work to him. While most simply spat at them, Walter listened. When freed, he didn't leave. Instead, he pledged his blade to the Owl Ward, especially to a young Laurana whom he had fallen for though she was engaged. Walter confessed his love in time, but did not pursue Laurana. Instead, they maintained a close partnership and trust and Walter was content with that. Now in his fifties, Walter still kept that partnership and his oath of loyalty to the Ward as not a witch hunter, but a Blood Hunter of the Owl Ward. The Ward, while generally full of good people, did have a slightly grey side. Walter and the few other hunters in the group were either self-made mutants or pledged to the group patron, the Goddess Artio, or both. Walter was a mutant, while they also fielded a single Lycan of the bear variety, a couple eldritch hunters (profane souls), and a few ghostslayers.

Ithayne never pledged to Artio, and never had to, though he did respect her. Walter was his sole mentor in the alchemic arts and mutation, and Walter was the one who taught Ithayne to create the Blood Hunter's brew that truly transformed him: the Hunter's Bane. Laurana was set against it, but could not stop her son. He was bedridden for two weeks from the terrible concoction at age seventeen, but he survived as Walter knew he would. Immediately Ithayne was changed. While he retained an inner sweetness for those he loved, his outer self grew bolder, harder, and even reckless. He rarely felt true fear to normal threats, and even grew a bit emotionless to all but those he loved most save a cheeky sort of trickster attitude. He quickly rose to prominence among the Ward as a hunter, and earned the nickname Lark when real names couldn't be used.

At nineteen, Ithayne grew weary of the tiny town and isolation. Laurana begged him to stay where it was safe, even trying to insist that the towns and Ward needed his protection should Soranus or any bandits come calling. But Ithayne simply told his mother that he needed to learn more than what Walter could teach him, and he needed to see what was out there. Begrudgingly but lovingly, Laurana sent him off with a pack of supplies and he left her a promise: he would return before the decade was up.

Walter saw Ithayne to the eastern straits, and there, told him that he couldn't use his real name outside of his home village. Walter explained the perils of being a traveling hunter, how people would distrust and even drive him away if they knew what he was. He warned Ithayne of the ways his mutations might further change him, and of what he might do if not kept in check. And with a final gift of a silvered blade, Walter sent "Mauli" off on a ferry across the straits to the eastern isle, toward the port where he could reach the rest of the world.

From then on, Ithayne went by a number of names. Jay, Bastien, L, but most prominently Mauli. He took contracts here and there, aided towns and governments, even briefly joined a town's guardsmen to fend off pirates til he took the captain's head. But he also stole, gambled, cheated, even joined a thieves' guild called the Caskers. In their offshoot in the Isles of Haras, he worked as a bodyguard to high profile members or to their clients, and even took a few jobs as an assassin, all under the nickname Lark as he didn't intend to stay or be found by them later.

All of this, Mauli did while living what a normal person would consider a life of debauchery and sin. Mauli drank too much, slept around with both men and women, broke hearts and laws, and got into his fair share of Cassanova-style trouble with boyfriends, wives, and powerful significant others and parents. He was arrested many times, but always managed to charm or cheat his way out. And while he never hurt innocent people directly, some of his actions did result in innocent lives being lost or damaged. Over time, he developed a silent internal guilt and grew more cautious of the common folk. He began to drink more heavily as well, but his advanced metabolism meant that it took five times the alcohol for an average dwarf to drink themselves to death for Mauli to even feel buzzed.

A string of bad luck hit Mauli around age 24, when contract after contract seemed to go south, he was nearly executed for sleeping with a nobleman's daughter, and the Caskers found Mauli in Kalidras and intended to kill him. He ran all the way to Thurgrear's southeasternmost isle and hid for a while in a town outside a former monastery. Now inhabited by a small order of fighters and monks who acted as wardens to the surrounding area, Mauli met among them an inventor called Ansem Karnd. While not the originator of firearms, Ansem had worked for years perfecting the six-shot design into a more sleek and smooth device. He was a crack shot and a handsome gentleman, widely liked by the community. Mauli originally went to him to learn about these new firearms and potentially outfit himself with a couple. He took lessons before considering buying, but he kept coming back just to see Ansem. He was falling in love, taking his time rather than trying to get Ansem in bed right away for a one-night stand. For a year, Mauli courted this younger man. The community, though wary of Mauli, accepted him as Ansem seemed to vouch for him. Mauli also carefully behaved himself, not wanting to disappoint Ansem or his people.

Eventually, after they'd begun living together, Mauli asked Ansem to marry him, and Ansem happily said yes. They began planning a trip to Feyeddys to meet Ziva and Laurana, with Mauli working an honest job as an alchemist and taking the occasional contract and Ansem continuing his inventing. But bad luck hit again in Mauli's 26th year when he accidentally mixed up his potion bottles. Thinking it was a regular healing potion for a local tradesman's wife, Mauli accidentally sold one of his mutation brews and it killed the woman who drank it along with her unborn child in a horrifically bloody, screaming death from the pain and toxicity. And while Mauli was struggling to avoid being arrested and explaining his position, an experiment with gunpower went wrong for Ansem. Mauli dropped everything to help him, using what little he knew of healing to keep Ansem alive while the local doctors had to amputate his ruined left hand. It wouldn't be enough to save him, and Mauli saw no other option but to give Ansem one of his mutagen brews. He gave the smallest dose possible, and it would either kill or heal Ansem but leave him changed forever. Over the course of several weeks, Mauli fended off the local wardens and took care of Ansem, but the younger man seemed mostly unresponsive. Eventually, Ansem began moving around normally again, working, but not speaking to anyone.

Ansem began working on a new hand for himself, planning to get it enchanted to work properly, and he slowly began speaking to Mauli about a plan to leave and go home to his parents in Haras. Mauli worried Ansem would be leaving him for good, until Ansem invited him to come as well and meet his family. After all, they would be married the next year. Hit with relief and joy he'd not felt in a long time, Mauli happily accepted. Though Ansem was changed, his emotions more hollow and his senses sharper, he slowly became mostly like his old self again. But tragedy hit one more time aboard their ship to Haras. Lightning struck the mast and the entire vessel caught fire in the storm. Mauli was thrown from the deck while trying to help the sailors put out the flames. He awoke later on an outer island of Haras, having survived thanks to a water-breathing potion he'd drunk in preparation for the potential sinking of the ship in the storm. He was alone, odd bits of wreckage and a few bodies washed up around him. He searched across several islands trying to find Ansem or a main piece of the ship, but found none.

Mauli slowly came to terms with the idea that his fiance was dead, surely burned, drowned, or killed by the wrecking of the ship. Mauli had nothing left save the ruined clothes on his back, and he was forced to go crawling to a temple of Diana for help to get back on his feet. Slowly over several months, he worked his way back up, drinking heavily all the while. He went back to his Cassanova ways to dull the loneliness, but he was darker and no amount of company could change that. He wandered, eventually ending up in Gharrad Eldithas but afraid to visit home for the story he'd have to tell.

So he went on, til the party encounters him waiting on a contract in a local tavern, drinking all day but never seemingly drunk.

Tools:

Huion H420 Tablet
Medibang Paint Pro

Time: ~4 hours

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Artwork, Original Character © TRW
Blood Hunter Class (5e)
 © Matt Mercer
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Dungeons + Dragons- Vosskner Kestral
A half-orc Paladin of the Raven Queen, Vosskner of the Order of the Kestral Mace is one of my newest personal characters who is currently acting as an NPC in the campaign I am DMing. Originally from a small village working in timber, Vosskner (or Warren Joan Arkhan, his birth name) was the son of two half-orcs: the owner of the sawmill, Luthas Arkhan, and the local laundress, Tasha Ulos-Arkhan. Luthas was abusive, controlling, and forced his wife and son to work night and day for his own benefit. That lasted til Tasha suddenly died during Vosskner's sixteenth winter, having lost the will to live despite her deep love of her son. Outraged, Vosskner demanded freedom, only to end up fending off his father til he was forced to nearly kill the man. Luthas would not stand for what he saw as a dishonor and embarrassment, but he failed to press charges legal or moral against his son. The village knew what kind of man he was. So the local warden forced Luthas to pay Vosskner's way to the city of Konstanos, to freedom and better opportunities.

Vosskner soon fell upon hard times, a lone teen with little gold and no social skills, and he resorted to theft. It didn't last long before the thin and rather small half-orc was arrested and given an ultimatum: go to the jail in the mines, or join the city watch and become useful. Vosskner quickly chose the latter, and it wasn't long before he was noticed as a hard and stubborn worker and very able keeper of the peace. The second-in-command of a local Order decided to sponsor Vosskner as a potential entrant to the Order itself. Vosskner accepted this new opportunity not for the raise in pay or the reputation that would come with it, but because of the Order's purpose. The Order of the Kestral Mace was a tight-knit group of knights and sages serving the Raven Queen. Their duties were based around all things funerals and the sanctity of death, for the Raven Queen is not a Goddess of killing or of the dead, but of the act of death itself. The Order's purpose was to preserve natural death, destroy the undead, and stand against any who tried to cheat death without the Queen's approval. Vosskner, having built coffins with an undertaker for meals in his hometown, was already suited to these duties, and he had a deep reverence of death after having lost his mother and seen several funerals. He excelled with weapons once taught, and could handle greatswords or axe and shield. He struggled initially with divine magicks when they were granted to him upon his first communion, but his hard work turned him into a skilled caster over many years. His specialty laid in effects, weakening his enemies or forcing their focus to himself. He became the epitome of a divine shield for his cleric comrades, and could defend a small group with only minor support.

Come his twenty-first year, war struck the city. It was practically one-sided, as the city was overtaken and all local military and Orders shattered. Vosskner and a handful of Kestral Maces survived, but were forced to work for the invaders or die. Vosskner spent the next seven years working with his surviving brethren in secret to free their home city, and it took a deep toll on all of them. Vosskner grew quieter, and his pacifist tendencies only grew until he refused to fight unless lives were threatened. The city eventually erupted in rebellion, and was freed. While glad, Vosskner was still deeply depressed after losing so many of his brethren and seeing his city decimated, and he only remained for another few years before striking out alone to find something to ease his guilt.

At thirty, Vosskner ran out of money and began working for a mercenary company, quickly becoming a trusted captain. Two years later, we reach the present. When he recruits some wanderers down on their luck and out of coin, he sees potential in them, and a purpose. Perhaps he'll tag along a while and see what good he can do.

Tools:

Huion H420 Tablet
Medibang Paint Pro

Time: ~4 hours

---
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Artwork, Original Character © TRW
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Working on downloading my games library, but I've got Rocket League on at least though I've never played.

Any gamer folks out, there, feel free to add me on Steam! Display name Taiylor Wallace.
Guys! My gaming desktop is here and ALIVE! His name is Elhardt and he is a BEAST for a person like me whose previous best computer could only run Witcher 3 at low graphics on like 15fps and half speed.
Got a lovely pair of rat boys this weekend! Their names are Heimdall and Tyr, and they're making fantastic progress in their new home.
Hey, all! I am still alive, just with nothing worth posting. Been working on getting a new vehicle and rats and a computer. The former two should be happening as early as this week! The computer will take a little longer, but I've been exploring some options for rent-to-own gaming desktops. The reason I can't do much right now is that my only computer has a messed up screen and I can't see color properly on it. But maybe soon I'll get some black and white or greyscale stuff up.

Wish me luck! And greyscale commissions or lineart are available!

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:icontheindianacrew:
TheIndianaCrew Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday!
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:iconembracesweetness:
EmbraceSweetness Featured By Owner May 22, 2017  Hobbyist
Thanks for the fave!! Have a nice day!Panda Emoji-28 (Hello Hi) [V2] 
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:icontaiylorwallace:
TaiylorWallace Featured By Owner May 13, 2017  Student Writer
Next piece in the gallery is gonna be No.250! Any suggestions?
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:icontaiylorwallace:
TaiylorWallace Featured By Owner May 8, 2017  Student Writer
Just lost two hours of work on my Sans & Frisk project... Hoo, boy. Might throw something.
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:icontaiylorwallace:
TaiylorWallace Featured By Owner May 4, 2017  Student Writer
I may have just secured a job where I can be on third shift, listen to music, and not deal with people very much, eight hours a day, five days a week. It's repetitive, and my only partners in my workspace are machines.

Guys, I think I've found a dream job.

I'm an introverted night owl who likes her tunes and repetition is relaxing (hence why I place Minecraft) and I'll be working with my hands so I should be pretty content. I'm sure it's not that easy, I do actually have work to do inspecting parts from a plastic injection mold and marking them, but that actually sounds... god, this is gonna sound horrifically boring of me... that sounds like a job I can appreciate, a lot.

And even more fun, my Dad works in and supervises dispatch for the same company on the same property. That's really comforting for me because if anything goes wrong, 1) My Dad is close by, 2) he's going to receive the report, and 3) he's a retired police officer who knows what he's doing. So I'm gonna be pretty safe, all things considered.

I'm pretty sure Dad's reputation got me in pretty good with these folks at the company, especially the HR lady who's been super nice and patient. As long as my first proper meeting with them and my physical go well, I should be golden.
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:icontheindianacrew:
TheIndianaCrew Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday to you! I really hope you had a fantastic day. :3
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:icontaiylorwallace:
TaiylorWallace Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2017  Student Writer
Absolutely I did. Thank you darling!
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:icontheindianacrew:
TheIndianaCrew Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem! 
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:iconsspacee:
sspacee Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
happy birthday ;u;
i honestly wish i could draw something for you but idk what to doooo
sorry :c
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:icontaiylorwallace:
TaiylorWallace Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2017  Student Writer
Draw me an army worthy of Mordor XD
<3 I love you no matter what.
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