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Mornings always came far too early in the Northern Continent. Madam Celinsea Turrig’s day began before the rest of the manor, but it didn’t make her any more of a morning person. She was the head of the servants employed by King Gerrion Porculus and Queen Harriet Brathedos; a rather prestigious and time consuming position. After assigning the duties of the day to each individual, it was Celinsea’s job to tend to the needs of the King’s ailing eldest son, Prince Warrick.

The boy fell victim to a dragonkin attack at an early age, leaving both his legs crippled. The King and Queen in their grief, offered a ridiculous amount of gold to any healer or cleric who could cure their son’s disability. While Madam Celinsea could not give Prince Warrick the use of his legs, she did develop a special chair for him to move about. After that, she was hired by the royal couple to tend to their son, and eventually manage their whole serving staff.

Celi was stunned to see Prince Warrick already awake when she entered his quarters. More often than not, it took several minutes for her to get the prince to begin his day.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” Madam Celinsea stated with a smile. “Did you sleep well, young Prince?”

“Madam please. I’m nearly a man grown now.” Prince Warrick sat on the edge of his bed, with his legs dangling uselessly off the side. The muscles in his legs were so atrophied they almost looked like twigs, but his upper torso however was very well defined and toned. Prince Warrick made it his personal mission to keep his remaining body parts as fit as possible.

“Is that right, my lord? Does that mean you’ll be waking up without a fuss from now on?” Celi smirked and ruffled the Prince’s bedhead, before beginning to change the sheets.

“I can’t make your job too easy can I?” Warrick chuckled back, before running his fingers through his hair. “Besides, Lady Avina will be arriving today.”

“Ah…that is today, isn’t it?” Celi set the bedsheets down in a basket. “My lord, your father has asked me to talk to you about your…relationship with the wolf girl.”

“Fox.”

“Pardon?”

“Lady Avina. She turns into a fox. Not a wolf.” Prince Warrick dropped to the floor and crawled over to his chair. When he sat down on it, magical runes sprang to life all over its frame, and the chair lifted a few inches off the ground, hovering in place.

“Regardless… she is a lycanthrope. And now that her affliction has matured, she is a threat to the staff and you.” Celi in truth did not oppose to Prince Warrick’s affection for Lady Avina Howl. Gods knew that suitors weren’t exactly lining up to court crippled boys and werewolves; or werefoxes in this case. Madam Celinsea didn’t want to be the one to deny young love from two cursed souls.

“Lycans are only bloodthirsty during a full moon, Madam. Lady Avina said so herself. The full moon was three nights ago, so she should be fine now, right?”

“There is a full moon every thirty days, young Prince.” Celi walked over to the Prince’s wardrobe and selected an outfit for him to wear. She chose a dark red tunic, embroidered with gold, with matching trousers and boots, laying them down on the bed mattress. “And with the Howl Family under your roof for the next year, that leaves several opportunities for blood to spill; accidental or not.”

“I appreciate your concern, Madam Celinsea. But you worry too much. Lady Avina’s house takes the utmost precautions to ensure her and her company’s safety.” Warrick’s chair hovered back to the bed. He picked up the tunic and pulled it over his head.

“You are truly your father’s child, young Prince.” Celi smiled and sighed. “Stubborn and loyal to your ladies.” She picked up the loose clothes over the floor, and placed them in the basket. After she finished dusting off various shelves and tables, she picked up the laundry basket and headed for the door.

“When are the Howl’s expected to arrive, Madam?” Warrick said, as he struggled briefly with his pants. Celinsea had always offered to help, but Prince Warrick insisted he learn to at least dress himself on his own.

“Before breakfast, if the scouts are to be believed. We have plenty of time.” Celi adjusted the basket in her arms. She was not as young as she once was, and the basket was starting to become heavy. A couple more years and she may need to take multiple trips. “Will you be needing any more assistance this morning, my lord?”

“No, thank you Madam. You are dismissed.” Prince Warrick gave a warm smile.

The Gods are indeed cruel to cripple such a kind boy; Celi Turrig thought to herself. She returned the smile and bowed before exiting.
A kairg caravan escort was one of the most dangerous, but highest paying jobs in all of Thirodas. If there was one thing the dwarven Stonelords loved more than beer and money, it was the value of their trading contracts; and they would put out exuberant amounts of gold to insure that caravans made it to their destinations safely. Unfortunately, bandits and thugs knew the value of these caravans too. That’s where dwarves like Shelly Highwinter come in.

Born and raised down in the depts of Kairg-Duthlon, Shelly was pegged for bodyguard work at an early age. Able to swing weapons twice her size, and kill a man with a crossbow at 100 yards in pitch darkness, she was the Highwinter family’s pride and joy. When Shelly was selected as the new caravan escort for the contract with Starshore, she was all too eager to accept. However, nothing could have prepared her for the dragonkin attack.

Dwarves, humans, elves, even merfolk. Those were the types of bandits Shelly Highwinter was used to. Dragonkin were on a whole different plane of existence. Rumoured to be descendants from the mythical dragons of old, it was hard to deny the similarities. Dragonkin were bipedal, winged humanoids with skin covered in hard scales. Aside from that, the features of one dragonkin varied from individual. Some had talons while some had feet. Some grew horns while some had snouts instead of noses. Often times it was hard to believe some were apart of the same species. But like the beasts they claim to come from, dragonkin were obsessed with treasure. They adorned their bodies with jewelry of all kinds; and little else. More often than not, dragonkin would proudly display their forms unhindered by any scrap of clothing.

A small group of them; perhaps five at most, attacked the caravan bound for Starshore in the dead of night. They took out Shelly’s watchmen before she even realized they were under siege. It didn’t take long after for the rest of the escort to surrender. The dragonkin gathered Shelly and the remaining two members of her team and bound them together while they pillaged the caravan for their valuables. Luckily, they failed to notice a lookout escape through the woods…

“Ain’t nothin’ better than a big payday!” One of the bandits hissed loudly. Female, by the sound of it. It was hard to tell. Her skin and scales were a dark green colour. But at this time of night, everything was a dark colour.

“‘Cept for maybe one o’ them elf girls.” A second one chirped in. It was covered in blue scales and appeared to be male, towering over the whole group by several feet. “Those slender curves make me scales tingle. Heh!”

“Oi! Crakk! Where you say these dwarves are from again?” The green one yelled. “All the gold be stamped with this weird symbol.”

“Kairg-Moren.” Answered presumably by the one named Crakk. Another male, red, and much skinnier and smaller than the blue one. “Them’s the richest of the dwarf underground cities.”

“Naw ya idiot!” Said a fourth, yellow tinted bandit. “Kairg-Moren’s symbol is a fist smashing a mountain, not a hammer. This one is Kairg-Lowurg.”

“Ain’t my fuckin’ fault all their symbols look the same.” Crakk wasn’t exactly wrong. Most kairg sigils depicted a mountain being smashed by something. Whether it was the fist of Kairg-Moren, the hammer of Duthlon, the star of Lowurg, or the shield of Ahsu, among several others. The Stonelords often took great offence to surface dwellers who got them mixed up.

“Why not ask the short ones where they’re from?” The fifth dragonkin finally spoke as she; presumably she, was sifting through the caravan’s stores. She spoke more eloquently than the other four, Shelly noticed. Her scales were a light purple, but her draconic features were far less exaggerated than the rest of her companions. Shelly mused that she might not be a full dragonkin.

“Oi, Lexi! Don’t you go scrounging for loot yet! I get first pick, remember?” The green dragonkin snatched a silver necklace out of the one named Lexi’s hand, which elicited a grunt from her. Afterwards, the green one walked over to the tied up dwarves, and knelt down in front of Shelly. “Alright shorty. What hole you crawl out of?” The dragonkin gave her a smile full of sharp, rigid teeth. Shelly Highwinter remained quiet.

“I heard dwarf girls can grow beards.” The big blue one snickered. “That true?”

“We do.” Shelly broke her silence. “But ours grow in a different place.” The blue dragonkin let out a loud, guttural laugh.

“Heh! The short one has a sense of humour! More than can be said ‘bout you, Rell.” Big Blue snorted and chuckled again.

“You shut the hell up!” The green one growled, revealing herself as Rell. “You still haven’t answered my question, dwarf.”

“Kairg-Duthlon. So both yer friends were wrong.” Shelly smirked.

“Hah.” Lexi threw a gold coin at Crakk. He caught it and grumbled.

“Right…Can we divvy up the haul now? I need me some wench money.” Crakk went over to the pile Lexi was pillaging and started looking for things of value.

“Well that’s cuz ya can’t git a girl to sleep wit ya fer free.” The yellow dragonkin cackled, followed by the blue one’s uproarious laughter. Rell turned away from the dwarf hostages and began walking over to the pile. Shelly Highwinter turned her head back to her companions. These dragonkin may be strong, but they weren’t smart enough to disarm the dwarves. Shelly finally managed to cut the ropes with her wrist knife. The three dwarves took their hand crossbows from under their cloaks, and aimed carefully. They were outnumbered, so their shots had to be true. Shelly kissed a medallion of Kairg-Duthlon’s sigil around her neck.

“HEY!” The bandits turned around and the dwarves let their bolts loose. Shelly’s attack found the neck of the yellow dragonkin, dropping him to the ground. The second bolt pierced Crakk in the chest, throwing him on his back. The third attack struck Rell through her left eye, which elicited a loud screech.

“FUCK! MY FUCKING EYE!” Rell grabbed her face in pain. The dwarves tossed their crossbows aside, and unsheathed their swords. With two likely dead and one incapacitated, the odds had turned in their favour. The blue dragonkin stepped over the bodies of his fallen friends, and snarled.

“You’ve earned my ire now, short ones…”

“A-Alpha…t-the boys…” Lexi looked visibly shaken. She was attempting to hold Rell still, who was thrashing about from the arrow in her eye.

“Fly home, Love. And keep Rell safe until I deal with these dwarves.” The blue one responded, revealed as the group’s alpha male.

“Ye had the element o’ surprise before, bandit. Ye think ye can take us three ta one?”

“Heh.” The alpha opened his maw and took a deep inhale. Lexi spread her wings and leapt into the air with Rell in her arms, flying off into the night sky. A bright blue glow emanated from the alpha’s throat.

“….Shit.” The last thing Shelly remembered was the cold.
“This is a matter of great interest to the King, my Lord.” Magister Norren spoke with the tone of someone reading off a script; repeating the same line over and over. He was a short and stocky man, one who could be rationally mistaken for a tall dwarf. The more learned folk would know better however; dwarves don’t make for good mages. Norren Wheskley wore the garments of the Celestial Magistrate, more commonly known as the Royal House of Mages, in service to the King and Queen. They were simple robes for such a highly regarded position, usually one flat colour with star shapes along the trim. When questioned about the simplicity of their attire, a mage will often respond with: ‘Simplicity is an asset when throwing fire and lightning around.’ It was difficult to argue with their logic.

“As I have been told, several times.” Vinsen Dirk wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to his new title. He may be the Lord of Starshore now, but he would always have the heart of a simple miner.

“His Grace will take offence if you continue to ignore his invitation to the North, sire.” The magister did not show much emotion, but his tone did let off a hint of annoyance.

“Our Lord is currently unable to leave his seat at Starshore, Magister Wheskley.” Duke Jesek intervened. “We are awaiting a caravan of goods from Kairg-Duthlon, and our contracts with the dwarves always ask for Lord Vinsen to sign in person.”

“As you’ve mentioned for the past week! Surely the Stonelords will understand-“

“Unfortunately they will not, Lord Magister. We owe our entire economy to the Kairg Stonelords, so we will wait for the caravans as long as they see fit.” Coinmaster Harlos butted in whenever the issue of money was at hand. “I would much rather risk King Gerrion’s ire, than break contract with Kairg-Duthlon.”

“The most I can offer is to send Lord Ricard in my place. He is in the position to accept these offers.” Vinsen did his best not to look annoyed. “Would the King accept that as a compromise?”

“I…yes. I suppose that will work.” Magister Norren let out a deep sigh. “When is the earliest his Lordship can-“

Before he could finish, the doors to the throne room burst open, with an injured dwarven woman stumbling to the floor. Her cloak was in tatters and had several cuts across her leather tunic. Two guards ran to the dwarf’s side while Vinsen and his entourage stood from their seats.

“My lady, are you alright?!” Vinsen said alarmingly.

“B-Bandits m’lord!” The dwarf woman coughed up some blood. “They attacked me caravan and picked it clean!” The insignia on her cloak; a downward facing hammer smashing into a mountain, indicated she was from Kairg-Duthlon.

“Duke Jesek. See this woman to the infirmary, and prepare a small hunting party.” For Lord Vinsen, it seemed his day was not quite over yet.

“At once, my Lord.” Jesek Storm was a giant of a man, who some believed to actually be a half giant. Never seen without his armour; Duke Jesek looked more a walking fortress than mortal man, giant or not. He easily picked up and cradled the dwarven woman his his arms.

“W-wait!” She yelled out exhaustingly. “The b-bandits…”

“Worry not, my lady. No further harm shall come to you. My men are the strongest in the whole Southern Continent.”

“Ye dun understand…” She grabbed the edges of the duke’s collar. “These bandits…they were dragonkin..!” The dwarf coughed once more before passing out in Jesek’s arms.
The village of Starshore was never a place of value. Its name comes from the beautiful view of the night sky from the shore line; and that’s all most folk say about it. Years of mediocrity however had kept the village peaceful, and its location kept the worlds conflicts far and out of the way. That peace lasted decades until the the day of The Fall; a meteor shower that was felt across the entirety of Thirodas. Starshore was decimated along with much of the Southern Continent; and it quickly became a place of refuge for survivors. After a time, the village sprouted back and began to thrive and grow, thanks in no small part to a local miner and the discovery of stariron.

Vinsen Dirk found a massive vein of glittering ore inside the mine he laboured. Not a single one of his peers and colleagues could recall seeing that metal before The Fall, but it was in such abundance that they all found it eerie and strange. Dubbed ‘stariron,’ partially for its appearance and in honour of Starshore, the ore was remarkably difficult to break apart. Vinsen and his crew blunted more pickaxes in one day than they did an entire month’s work in the mines. When he took samples back to his husband Ricard; the village blacksmith, they found the stariron smelted quite easily. The refined ‘starsteel’ as it was named, proved to be one of the hardest metals ever known. It was soon speculated this material was a gift from the gods; and its distribution quickly made the Dirk’s two of the wealthiest and most powerful men on Thirodas.

The years following had been very kind to Starshore and the Dirk family. The simple coastal village with a nice view of the night sky evolved into a massive metropolis; with races from all five continents flocking to view starsteel for themselves. Dwarven ambassadors from the underground cities of Kairg-Moren and Kairg-Duthlon opened their trade routes across the Southern Continent, and the gold began pouring in to Starshore’s coffers. A magnificent castle was erected atop the famous mine, designed by Ricard Dirk himself. Geomancer's infused the masonry with pure stariron ore, and the bricks glittered like the sky that made Starshore so noteworthy to begin with. It was truly a sight to behold. With a comfortable home, a loving husband, and a legacy that would last generations, Vinsen Dirk was all but ready for early retirement.

The god’s disagreed.
Tales from Thirodas - Prologue
I've taken another stab at writing, and I figured I should at least post 'something' here on Deviantart.

This is a high fantasy setting somewhat similar to Game of Thrones, although this one is much more fantastical, with elements of magic and stuff like that much more common.
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LoL - Caleb Splash Art by Inudono19
LoL - Caleb Splash Art
Splash art for another thing on Tumblr. Ya'll should follow me there. Inudono.

And if you follow me on Patreon, you can see all my work earlier; order commissions and read comics.
www.patreon.com/inudono19?ty=c
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Only Partially Dead

Journal Entry: Wed May 13, 2015, 9:02 AM
And by that, I mean I'm not really on Deviantart much anymore. If anyone follows me on Tumblr, I'm far more active there, and doing stuff daily. Every so often I plan to post stuff here, but it'll probably be more professional looking stuff, for a portfolio or something like that.

But yeah, it's been awhile. Follow me on Tumblr if you miss me that much. inudono.tumblr.com

  • Watching: Doctor Who
  • Playing: Pokemon ORAS

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Inudono19
Bob Rylott
Artist | Professional | Digital Art
Canada
I'm but your humble comic book artist trying to find his place in the world. I play a truckload of video games. WoW, Starcraft, League of Legends, Pokemon, you name it.

I take commissions of all kinds, if you want me to draw something for you. I'd be happy to oblige.

Give me a shoutout via notes or an email to bobrylott@gmail.com.

Also, be sure to check out my comic book, Revenant! It helps me out a lot.
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:iconsophiegirl2001:
Sophiegirl2001 Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
I love your League of Legends art ^^ one of my OTP's happen to be Jarvan IV and Shyvana, I just can't get enough of it ^^;
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Scared2dream Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015
Thank you!
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Ariss18 Featured By Owner Dec 20, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for Fav+fav Heart 
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I77ustrat1v3mind Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014  Student General Artist
Thanks for the fave man, how's everything been going with you?.
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KHAN72 Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
happy birthday:D
cool gallery :D
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ionlytellafewiies Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014
happy birthday
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Elya--chan12 Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Student Digital Artist
Happy Birthday! ^^
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Ryannumber1gamer Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014
Happy Birthday! :)
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TigerAmethyst Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday!~
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yomanw Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Student Traditional Artist

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