u/buildsandguilds

I made a tiefling witch of the College of Enchantment!

I made a tiefling witch of the College of Enchantment!

FRANCINE HEARSTWICK, THE CHROMATIC CASTER.

(Summer Showdown series, Pt. 4)

This is my fourth entry into the #haonsummershowdown2 contest being run by @haon.brx . The theme for this week was "colorful." As with my last six-week contest, I elected to interconnect my characters into a tale of adventure and triumph! For this batch of characters, I wanted to make sure they were a colorful cast, as well as fun and whimsical, as summer should be. I don't think the whimsy really needs explaining on this character, but the idea is that nobody ever told her to stop when she kept adding colors to her whole getup. And why should they? She's got on exactly what she wants to! The character for this week is a Tiefling Wizard of the College of Enchantment.

•

It was a slow day in the Prisma-Emporium. The city of Valedyrn had generally supported Francine's business pretty well, but there were always slower periods. The young witch of course had her regulars that helped sustain business, but regulars for a magic shop meant stocking up on components, potions, and trinkets, plus the occasional eccentric sailor who bought explosives from her. Regulars in her industry weren't daily customers.

Every once in a while, Francine would wonder what life would've been like had she chosen to follow her grandmother's path, and taken up being a seeress instead. Divination was a tricky school of magic to master, and could find you high profile clientele if done right. But she was never as confident in that magic as she was in enchantment. Still, she'd advertised her services as a novice diviner on her flyers, to appease her grandma. It was a niche market, and there weren't really that many players in town, so what's the worst that could happen from putting your name out there? That's what she told herself, at least. It was a slow day, just like any other... Then her first group of customers for the day arrived.

It was an odd bunch that walked in, a sort of motley crew that would've drawn strange looks from any other establishment in the city. A fearsome—albeit small-winged—red half-dragon with a frightening looking maul strapped to her back perused the magical weapons, her gaze harsh and scrutinizing. Talking to her occasionally was a man made of stone—a terrakin, she thought she remembered—who had spent most of his time poring over the ingredient lists on the potions and the natural spell components she had for sale. And, lastly in the group, was some sort of shark-person, whom she swore she could hear mutter "how am I supposed to buy any of this? I have no legal tender for these lands!" A kuo-toa, perhaps? She'd never seen a shark one, before. An interesting bunch, for sure, but luckily, this wasn't any other establishment, and she was also well accustomed to receiving strange looks for her appearance.

"May I help you all find anything?" she asked in a cheery voice, sweeping out from behind the counter to greet them.

"By the depths, she looks like a coral reef," the shark-man said to himself.

"Um, hi," the scaled one replied to her with a faltering wave.

"Hello! Are you the owner of this fine store?" the terrakin asked.

"That's me! Francine Hearstwick. How can I help you today?" she answered, surveying the group. The shark-man's trident, strapped to his back, seemed to nearly scrape the items off the shelf as he gently swiveled in place, clearly uncomfortable. "Do you need me to turn the humidity up, sir?"

A silence followed, as the shark-man's companions turned to him and stared, then finally he spoke, "is–is that something you can do?"

"Of course! What kind of witch would I be if I couldn't control my own store's atmosphere?" She made her way to a little magical device behind the counter, adjusted some dials, and pressed a button. The device began to release a faint cloud of glimmering purple, and she rejoined the group with a friendly smile.

The terrakin introduced the three of them, and then said, plainly, "we're actually here to enlist your help with some divination."

The smile on Francine's face faltered for a moment. "Div–divination? Of course! What sort of thing are we trying to divine?" She prayed they couldn't see the sweat beginning to form on her temple.

"You seem surprised, lady," Vyra spat out, her thickly muscled arms crossed over her chest.

"Well, I just haven't gotten a customer asking for that in quite some time."

"Oh really? How long?" Gill asked, a quizzical look on his face as he began to stroke his... chin fins?

"Erm, last time was a little under a year ago, when my grandma came to see how my magic was holding up," Francine answered, her nervousness clear as day on her face. "Come to think of it, it's almost that time again, she'll probably be back soon—"

"Your grandma? What is she, some sort of magic health inspector?" Vyra interjected, clearly frustrated.

"No, not exactly. She was a grand seeress in her day. My specialty is more enchantment," the colorful witch answered.

"But you do practice divination, do you not?" Krym asked with a careful glance at Vyra.

"Practice? When I have to. It's a tricky balance. The readings are often sooooo vague, and I just don't really have the—"

"So this was all a waste of time, great. I'm just supposed to shrug off the attack by that monstrosity in the woods, and forget I had that hellish dream of the world ending on the eclipse? Awesome. In that case, do you have any popcorn for sale, for when the world burns?" Vyra said, sparks beginning to flare up in her mouth.

It was like Francine was pulled out of the moment, then. When Vyra mentioned the eclipse, the word seemed to echo, as the room around her spun and turned dark. She began to see, just as she feared doing, strange glimpses of some unfavorable portent. Golden feathers. An entropic blade. Eternal darkness. What did it all mean? What correlation could they possibly have with one another? She caught glimpses of a sinister eclipse, with some sort of unholy annulus emitting destructive waves of light. Then, of the ocean, and some sort of rock formation. She tried to commit to memory how the rocks were shaped, but began to feel her legs give way underneath her. Francine could hear her grandmother's voice in her head, shunning her for all the times she missed readings, or lost her grip on a vision. It all went dark, then, before a gentle voice woke her up.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" It was Krym, whose stone hands holding her were somehow soft. She was on the floor where she had the vision, and the three of them were kneeling around her.

"I'm... I'm sorry. Yes, I'm okay, just a really bad headache," Francine responded, rubbing at her temples. "I think I should be able to help you. At least, I'm willing to try. Please," she began to stand up, and continued, "join me in my office."

The three of them followed her to a room in the back adorned with velvety curtains, comfortable and plush furniture, and a ceiling painted with a gorgeous mural of the cosmos and all their celestial bodies. In the center of the room stood a crystal ball, atop an ornate table of dark walnut.

Vyra, still irritated, sat down on an armchair and hugged a cushion tightly. "You saw it, didn't you?" she asked. "The vision I had of the eclipse."

Francine traced a sigil on a teapot and dropped in a strainer of tea leaves, before answering. "Visions are mysterious things. Many people can have a vision of the same subject, and can see completely different things... But yes, I did see the eclipse. Please, share all that you saw."

Vyra recounted her dream, and told her all the details she could remember. Francine confirmed many of the same details, though with some notable differences.

"And you believe this is grave, yes?" the tiefling asked.

"Grave enough to come to Valedyrn to decipher it," Vyra nodded.

"I don't know that I believe in destiny, per se, but I don't see why no one else would have had this vision and done something about it. My grandmother may have her own opinion on why, but... why not a group more capable? No offense." Francine gave an apologetic look to the three of them.

"Because you have been chosen," a new voice spoke in the room. Vyra, Gill, and Krym all jumped in their seats, as the crystal ball lit up, swirling with colorful mist.

"What did I say about spying on me, grandma?!" Francine blurted out.

"Relax," the older voice said, "I just wanted to see if you had gotten use out of this room in a while."

"Not since your last visit," the young witch replied, looking down in embarrassment.

"No matter, dear girl! This is your moment! The very reason I taught you what I know. I knew it would come in handy someday."

"I'm sorry," Vyra spoke up, "you were watching us that whole time? Seems a little rude."

"For about twenty minutes or so before you all came in, I was actually surveying the thick layer of dust the seeing sphere had accumulated. Talk about rude," the grandmother said sternly.

"I just don't get that kind of clientele, grandma," Francine assured her.

"And now you have, and your friends are subject to a den of your neglect! A shame," the older woman reprimanded her.

"I don't mind dust. It's interesting. We don't really have it where I'm from," Gill chimed in.

"This group you have gathered here, has gathered for a reason. Do you not think it fate that I happened to be watching the one day you had need of this orb?" she continued, ignoring Gill.

"I think it's the result of your intrusiveness, not fate," Francine said, looking irritatedly into the orb. The teapot was done heating, and she poured herself a cup, before offering some to the others. Krym obliged, but the others declined her offer.

"'You will travel with four companions to decide something of great significance. It may yet change the fate of the world.' You don't remember me telling you of this a great many years ago?" the grandmother asked.

"You've said a lot of wild things over the years, grandma. Plus, this would make only three companions, not four," Francine gestured at them around the room to emphasize her point. The faint tinkling of the front door bell rung, as a new Patron entered the store. "I don't have time for the rest of this conversation, grandma. I have a new customer. Folks, you're welcome to wait in here, if you want. I'll be right back."

Francine exited the room, and went to the showroom floor, searching for her new customer.

"Hello there, Ms. Hearstwick. Back for my normal pickup," a voice from the counter called. It was that same sailor with the ragged pirate coat and the overstuffed pack on his back, all sorts of magical baubles and potions hanging off of it. One of her most reliable customers.

"YOU." The word fell harsh in the room, as Gill stood in the doorway to the office, his trident in hand, pointed at the sailor...

THE BALLAD OF THE FROSTY FIVE.

(Winter Wipeout, Bonus Pt. 8)

This is a MOC I built to commemorate the Ballad of the Frosty Five, which is the story/song I wove together for my Winter Wipeout series. This is also my #SummerJoust2026 entry into the Frozen Fantasy category! The story is a bit long to fit into one post, but you can access the previous posts easily on my Winter Wipeout story highlight over on Instagram, if you find yourself in the mood for a fun, frosty epic!

This was one of my favorite groups of characters I've made, as well as some of my favorite storytelling I've done. If you've been following along with my page for a while, you probably know by now that for me, building with Lego is a means of storytelling, rather than simply making content. And this group of wintry adventurers was one of my favorite stories to tell.

Featured here from left to right, and ending with the one on top, we have:

Mal'Therak Vorodin, the Cryobrand,

Taelmaris Vaundbriae, the Frostcleaver,

Nelthyris Wyvandrel, the Snowpiercer,

Lutheria Salveryn, the Rimeherald,

Zero, the Ice Elemental Myrmidon, and finally

The Hoarfrost Monarch, the Cold Unceasing, the Ice King.

The story saw five adventurers come together on a mysterious island known as Ice Reach to put an end to the Ice King, the source of the endless winter that had begun to decimate their homelands.

Which character is your favorite?

THE BALLAD OF THE FROSTY FIVE.

(Winter Wipeout, Bonus Pt. 8)

This is a MOC I built to commemorate the Ballad of the Frosty Five, which is the story/song I wove together for my Winter Wipeout series. This is also my #SummerJoust2026 entry into the Frozen Fantasy category! The story is a bit long to fit into one post, but you can access the previous posts easily on my Winter Wipeout story highlight over on Instagram, if you find yourself in the mood for a fun, frosty epic!

This was one of my favorite groups of characters I've made, as well as some of my favorite storytelling I've done. If you've been following along with my page for a while, you probably know by now that for me, building with Lego is a means of storytelling, rather than simply making content. And this group of wintry adventurers was one of my favorite stories to tell.

Featured here from left to right, and ending with the one on top, we have:

Mal'Therak Vorodin, the Cryobrand,

Taelmaris Vaundbriae, the Frostcleaver,

Nelthyris Wyvandrel, the Snowpiercer,

Lutheria Salveryn, the Rimeherald,

Zero, the Ice Elemental Myrmidon, and finally

The Hoarfrost Monarch, the Cold Unceasing, the Ice King.

The story saw five adventurers come together on a mysterious island known as Ice Reach to put an end to the Ice King, the source of the endless winter that had begun to decimate their homelands.

I made a simple little rock dude ranger who's somehow very light on his feet.

BELAKRYM BLUEGORGE, THE SILENT STONE.

(Summer Showdown series, Pt. 3)

This is my third entry into the #haonsummershowdown2 contest being run by @haon.brx . The theme for this week was "nature." As with my last six-week contest, I elected to interconnect my characters into a tale of adventure and triumph! For this batch of characters, I wanted to make sure they were a colorful cast, as well as fun and whimsical, as summer should be. The whimsy in this character was the idea of an individual literally made of stone somehow being light on his feet. Plus, raw earth often gets overlooked in the "nature" category of fantasy characters. Step aside leafy folk, the rock folk are here to stay! The character for this week is a Terrakin (homebrew) Ranger of the Monster Hunter Archetype.

•

There was certainly something afoot in the forest. Bramblebrook was often steered clear of because of its harsh and tangled undergrowth. It never seemed to bother Belakrym, however—the thorns were nothing to his hardened, stoney skin. As such, he was one of the only creatures that lurked around these parts that wasn't simple fauna. That was, up until two days prior.

Belakrym spent most of his life in the wilderness, studying monsters and beasts alike, and attuning to the earth and her cycles. He could sense disturbances in the environment, and had slain many a foe that threatened to disrupt the balance of the ecosystem established there. But the creature he had begun tracking two days ago was no ordinary pest...

It had enormous inky black wings, and a muscled predator's body like a hellhound. Its tail bore the scorpion-like stinger of some manticore breeds, but its head was even more monstrous... It had less of a face, and something more akin to an all-encompassing maw. Row after row of hook-shaped teeth lined its jaws, which it used to latch onto its prey. A mane flowed out behind it, like embers of shadow flickering off of its head. It might've been a twistedly beautiful sight, if not for the havoc it had wreaked on the forest.

The terrakin had been watching it carefully for some time, learning its habits and maneuvers, so he could know how best to oust it from his neck of the woods. He'd watched it drain the life out of those caught in its maw, and he'd watched it flap its powerful wings hard enough to generate a gust which could blow back prey. But the one thing he hadn't seen it do—notice him stalking it.

The Bluegorge name was one of little renown, and he was one of very few to have left their community. He'd always stood out a bit, and his family was always amazed—if not also dismayed—at his propensity to sneak about undetected. It was a gift he wasn't sure how he came by, but one that he thanked mother earth for over these last couple of days. He didn't want to face the monster before he was ready, for he wasn't sure he would walk out of the encounter at all. An inconvenience it was, then, to say the least, when those two brawny, bumbling idiots walked right into its hunting grounds.

They seemed to get along alright, though Belakrym suspected the hammerhead finfolk hadn't spent much time above the sea, and that the red half-dragon lass had spent even less time working as part of a team. When they carelessly stomped through the grove he'd seen numerous creatures get taken in, it was all he could do not to scream in frustration. As sure as the tides rose and fell, the monstrous creature fell upon them, ready for another tasty meal.

The half-dragon, "Vyra," as he'd heard her called in the fight, swung miss after miss at the creature with her blazing hammer, as the other fighter, "Gill," did his best to keep its toothy maw at bay with his unreasonably long trident. It was a wonder to watch the two competent-looking, formidable warriors struggle in vain against the creature. He almost wanted to sit back and watch. But if these two could take a little direction, perhaps he could utilize this opportunity to take down the monstrosity.

They'd begun to tire, and it wasn't only Belakrym that had noticed. The monster stood up on its hind legs and coiled up its wings before beating them, unleashing an impressive blast of wind that sent the combatants tumbling into a near thicket at the edge of the grove. It approached them, looking ready to go in for the kill, as two arrows pierced into its gaping mouth. The creature roared ferociously, spraying a sort of ichor from its head as it backed up, pawing at its mouth.

"What in the nine hells–" Vyra began.

"Hello, there!" the terrakin called to them, bow in hand, standing only a few feet from where they lay.

"AHH!" the two tired fighters screamed in unison, as he offered a wave.

"Where did you come from, rock man?" asked Gill.

"I was watching the whole fight, and might I say, you two made losing look really cool!" Belakrym answered.

"You watched the whole time and did nothing?! What kind of sick–" Vyra's jaw began to spit sparks before he continued explaining.

"Really I've been watching this creature for a number of days, so you two are fairly new to the situation. And might I add, I didn't do nothing. Now, do you still have fight in you?"

"Do I ever. I've got a bone to pick with you if we survive this thing..." Vyra pulled herself up, using her hammer to push off of the ground.

"We don't have these creatures underwater, rock man. Are they quite common here?" Gill inquired, standing up and brushing himself off.

"Certainly not! And my name is Belakrym, but you can call me Krym." The terrakin surveyed the state of the creature across the grove. It'd gotten one of the arrows free, and was working on the second. They had seconds, maybe, before it was back on the offensive. "Don't worry, I happen to be an expert at this sort of thing. That creature has an incredibly sensitive mouth. You can see what agony it's in."

"To be fair, I don't think I'd appreciate an arrow in my mouth either," Vyra spit.

"Two," Gill corrected.

"Yes, Gill, two. I thought the second went without saying. Why would I be angry at the first arrow but fine with the second?" she retorted.

"I just wanted to be precise..." the finfolk trailed off.

"You couldn't have employed that precision with

your trident, could you have?" she said, her words cutting into her ally.

"While I'm sure you two have many issues to work out, perhaps we can save them for after the monster slaying?" Belakrym interjected. "Now, as I was saying, its mouth is very sensitive. It breaks off the antlers of deer before it attempts to feed on them. Gill, that's where you come in. When it comes back up in a few seconds, keep it distracted with that trident of yours. It certainly wouldn't risk biting that thing. Vyra, maybe you'll actually be able to hit it when he's got it distracted. I'll provide ranged support from the sides. Sound like a plan?"

The finfolk and half-dragon exchanged a glance before shrugging in mutual acquiescence. A broken arrow shaft rolled over to Gill's foot, as the three faced the fearsome foe. Its mouth was bleeding, but free of arrows. Now came the time to put their plan to the test.

They began to get into position, Vyra splitting off as Gill waved his trident around in the creature's face, warding off its fury. She was almost in position and ready to strike, when a hiss cut through the air. The stinger began to shoot its way toward her, at an alarming speed. A second before it would've met its mark, an arrow plunged into its skin, bringing about another anguished roar from the creature. Vyra siezed the opportunity to rear back with her hammer, and let loose a devastating swing.

The sound of bone-splintering split through the grove, as the creature's leg was mangled under the weight of her fiery weapon. Gill took advantage of the creature's distress to stab forth with his trident, delivering a glancing blow off the side of its neck as it whipped its head around. Another couple of arrows found their way into the creature's leathery wings, as it writhed in agony. It pushed off of the ground, then, and launched into the sky, out of reach, regarding the three before it, before a chilling voice emitted from its bleeding jaws.

"Pitiful creatures. How you fight the end in futility. When the sun has been blocked out forever, my kind shall have free-range over this world, and we will bleed your people dry," the creature sneered, and flew up and up, further and further, until it dotted out of view.

A moment of silence filled the grove as the three caught their breath.

"So that's a pretty bad omen," Gill stated plainly. "Do you want to tell Grim about your vision?"

Vyra filled in Belakrym on her foreboding vision, and their voyage to Valedyrn, while Gill chimed in with details from his time under the sea. By the time their discussion concluded, Belakrym had finished foraging his arrowheads from the battlefield.

"Well, it seems you are in need of some direction. I will accompany you, of course, as is customary for a guide such as myself in the forest," Belakrym assured the group with a short bow, a hint of pride gleaming in his voice and soft, hewn smile.

"I suppose if we run into more of that thing, you'll certainly be useful... Thanks for saving our bacon there," Vyra replied, nodding her head.

The three of them headed through the Bramblebrook Forest, and onward to Valedyrn, where they hoped to find the clairvoyant mage and enlist her help. It was a tense sort of companionship, at first, but one that began to grow easier with each story exchanged with one another. None of the three had really expected it, but the hues of fellowship began to show through on that road to the city. Nothing could've readied them, however, for the sheer breadth of colors in that witch's shop...

THE GRELL, MICRO EDITION.

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Here with a tiny little creature for the @bricksandfables #MicroMadnessJune challenge! The second I got ahold of this beak piece, I knew it would be perfect for a microscale grell. It could also work great for a baby grell! I plan on making some other types of microscale builds for the challenge, but hopefully, I have enough time to get around to them!

I made a hammerhead shark warrior for a contest called the Summer Showdown! He's a lil derpy, but I love him.

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Let me know what you think!

I made a hammerhead shark warrior for a contest called the Summer Showdown! He's a lil derpy, but I love him.

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Let me know what you think!

GILLIAN RAZERTOOTH, THE CURRENT CLEAVER.

​

(Summer Showdown series, Pt. 2)

​

This is my second entry into the #haonsummershowdown2 contest being run by @haon.brx over on Instagram. The theme for this week was "water." As with my last six-week contest, I elected to interconnect my characters into a tale of adventure and triumph! For this batch of characters, I wanted to make sure they were a colorful cast, as well as fun and whimsical, as summer should be. This guy may look tough, but he also kinda looks hilarious? The fish in hand? Always snacking? Perpetual state of looking like he's seen just about enough? He's just like me. The character for this week is a Finfolk (homebrew) Paladin Oath of the Deep (homebrew).

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•

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The ocean was in trouble. Tides were growing more and more dramatic, and the currents more erratic than ever. The depths themselves somehow had gone through drastic temperature changes, as though something from above the sea was affecting the life down below. Schools of fish were thrown out of sync, and the sea creatures' internal rhythms were all out of balance. She was growing restless, that endless blue. And Gillian would do something to reset the balance. Or at least, he sought to—before the incident.

​

He came to in a quaint little bed, nestled inside a charming little tavern room. It would have been a nice way to wake up, he thought, if it weren't entirely dry in his mysterious new bedchamber. Gillian hadn't spent much time above sea-level—just enough to adapt and survive. It was uncomfortable, but there was a chance the solution to what was plaguing the sea was up here. But how many tides had it been since he left? His mission could've been delayed. If it weren't for that foolish human and his disappearing ship...

​

"Good, you're awake. The people here were starting to think this room would never be up for rent again," a strong voice from across the room greeted him. A creature he'd never seen the likes of before sat but ten feet from him, clad in black, minimal armor over her glossy red scales.

​

"The people here... they took me in?" Gillian asked. He hadn't expected any sort of hospitality from land-dwellers, having heard he hadn't less-than-favorable things about them from his shiver.

​

"Aye. Some of them wanted to loot you and throw you back in the ocean, but I suppose their better nature won out." The half-dragon leaned forward on what he realized was a hefty looking hammer, glowing with a sort of fiery energy.

​

"Better nature, hm?" The finfolk's thoughts trailed off, as he began to survey the situation. "A mighty-looking weapon, that. How does it not burn the ground?"

​

"It's connected to me. I can keep a lid on the fire... generally speaking." Her gaze hardened as she spoke the last words. "You have a reason for coming here? Can't say we've seen any of your kind 'round these parts."

​

"And where exactly is here, might I ask? I'm afraid I'm missing some time." Gillian's stomach began to grumble audibly.

​

"You're in Thimbleport, a small village on the north of the Kyrathean Coast." She stood up as she continued, "I'll go and tell the innkeeper to prepare you something."

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"No, please, there's no need," replied Gillian, fishing through his things for, well—a fish. Peeling back the salted seaweed wrapped around it, he began nibbling at it to sate himself.

​

"You, uh... just keep that on you?"

​

"You never know," he said between bites, "when you'll need a snack."

​

"Right... Well my name's Vyra, and I'm, er—I guess the village protector? What's your name?"

​

"Gillian, protector of the sea. Gill, for short," he answered.

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"Isn't that a little on the nose?"

​

"What, did I leave some fish crumbs?" Gillian wiped at his nose, embarrassed in front of his new company.

​

"No, it's just an expression. Nevermind that. I heard you were murmuring about the eclipse when you were still out. Mind telling me about that?" Vyra sat back down, and set her hammer aside, assuming a more conversational posture.

​

"The upcoming eclipse, yes. My shiver sage, she had been theorizing the upsets in the ocean were linked to it. The moon does have a particular relationship with the sea, after all," the finfolk answered her.

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A troubled look crossed her face. "But you didn't... happen to see anything about it?"

​

"See anything? No, it was merely speculative. Why, did you? You seem to be in further fathoms."

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"In further fathoms? Is that an expression of... your kind?" the half-dragon asked.

​

"It means to have one's mind preoccupied with something else. My people go by many names, but most land-dwellers call us 'finfolk.'"

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"I see," Vyra looked down, her expression darkening. "To answer your question, yes. I had a vision, if you could call it that. The details were unclear, but the danger was obvious. Something awful is going to happen at the height of the eclipse... It might even be the last we see of the sun."

​

The dark omen hung in the air like refuse floating through water. Gillian glanced over at the corner adjacent to him, and noted his trident propped up against the wall. Rising from the bed, he made his way toward the weapon, before speaking resolutely to the troubled warrior.

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"Well then, if you're convinced, we ought to try and fight it. Do you have any leads on where to learn more about this looming threat?" Gillian strapped his trident to his back and adjusted his gear.

​

"Sort of. I was hoping to head to Valedyrn to find out more there. I've heard of a mage in the city who's a clairvoyant, and might be able to help me discern the meaning of my vision," the half-dragon eyed him inquisitively. "You sure you're good to travel already? You must've been knocked on your noggin pretty hard if you lost a bit of your memory."

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"Ah, 'tis but a scratch. The fate of the sea lies in the balance, and there's nary a moment to waste!" exclaimed the hammerhead. "That being said... If we ever cross paths with that foolish, orange-haired navigator... I have some words I'd like to exchange with him." Gillian eyed the prongs of his trident. "At least three of them."

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Vyra rose from her chair, gathered her things, and made for the door. "So you got struck by a ship? Shouldn't finfolk be pretty used to ships out there?"

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"Not disappearing ships, my friend. I'd like to meet the buffoon and give him what for," the denizen of the deep responded, following Vyra out of the room. He thought he saw her expression change at that, but surmised it may have been a trick of the mind.

​

He left a handsome, shiny pearl on the bar as a symbol of thanks as they made their way out of the inn, and asked his new companion what the route to the city would be. As they continued on, he began unwrapping another fish from his pack, and they traveled out of Thimbleport. She explained that they'd venture south along the road, before cutting west through the Bramblebrook Forest to shave off a day. What she couldn't anticipate, however, was the trouble they'd run into along their little shortcut...

This is what happens when a banana is tired of being used for scale!

THE BANANA FOR SCALE.

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A bit of a sillier post from me today! A few months ago, my wonderful LUG @texlugaustin had the monthly challenge prompt of "fruits of spring," and, as I'm wont to do, I decided to put a D&D twist on it! So ladies and gentlemen, the monstrous fruit you never asked for: the banana who is TIRED of being used for scale for all your MOCs. I wouldn't try peeling him! Those claws and teeth look vicious.

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What do you think, would you be interested in the monsterification of other foods and objects at larger-than-minifig scale? Let me know!

I made a Half-Dragon barbarian for a contest going on with the prompt of "fire." Let me know what you think!

I made a Half-Dragon barbarian for a contest going on with the prompt of "fire." Let me know what you think!

VYRA DOLDURITH, THE RAGING INFERNO.

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(Summer Showdown series, Pt. 1)

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Well, folks, it's time for a new series of characters! This is my first entry into the #haonsummershowdown2 contest being run by @haon.brx over on Instagram. The theme for this week was "fire." As with my last six-week contest, I elected to interconnect my characters into a tale of adventure and triumph! Ideally, I'll have more time in the future to add a bit more contextual visual intrigue to the background for the next few characters, but in the short time I have now, this'll have to do. Also, please ignore that the photos are different quality than normal—I didn't have access to my usual editing program. Without further adieu, the story begins!

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The world would come to an end in just six days, at the height of the solar eclipse. Golden feathers, hollow eyes, and the swipe of a mighty scythe over all. The earth would be awash with death and darkness, and the sun would never shine again on another living soul. Or at least, that's what Vyra's vision had told her. She wasn't overly sure that it was to come true, but she wasn't one to play with fate, either. Over the years, she'd learned that if you wanted a threat taken care of, you took care of it yourself. And she did just that with her brawn and her anger many a time. Most people in the village would tell you that Vyra's rage and predilection for violence could be traced back to her upbringing. Growing up as an orphaned half-dragon in a village of dragonborn was horribly ostracizing: her small wings were often made fun of, and the other children would play with her tail, bringing her to lash out at them. But, in truth, it wasn't being an outcast that brought about her rage—it was the burden of responsibility and power she'd never asked for.

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Vyra believed that her village was strong and vigilant, and would watch over its own to keep them safe. Yet, time and time again, folks in the village seemed complacent when people would go missing, or monsters would move in too close to the surrounding area. The few times she had mustered up a party to go out and clear a monster den, the same thing happened each time. She pulled all of the weight in the fight, and her companions were terrified at her ferocity. Her hammer crushed in the skulls of her foes, and her breath weapon melted the flesh from their bones. Her capabilities were far beyond those of the others, and it frightened them. As such, it was her duty not only to protect the village, but to try and curb the fear that they regarded her with. After all, she never asked for the might she was endowed with—courtesy of some promiscuous dragon who didn't stick around to raise her. It wasn't her situation that determined who she was, though, it was how she played the cards she'd been dealt. And when you draw the card of death from the deck... You have to take fate into your own hands.

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She had just packed her things to travel to the next largest city to seek clarity regarding her vision, when word of a stranger washing up on the near beach had begun to spread. It wasn't the first time seafarers had washed up on the shore, as the gulf saw many tempests and dangerous currents. But reports said he came from the sea itself, and looked unlike anyone they'd ever seen. Rumor also had it that he was murmuring in his sleep about the coming eclipse. Vyra figured this vision of hers could very well be meaningful if another individual had similar visions themselves. She paid a visit to the inn that took the seafarer in, and asked to speak with him. She wasn't prepared, however, for just what she'd find...

THE COUNCIL OF THE TREANTS.

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(May You Bloom Series, Pt. 8)

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This is the eighth and final post in a series of treants I've built for the #MayYouBloom challenge hosted by @bricksandfables over on Instagram. Though I wasn't able to post these all actually within the month of May, I still wanted to share the remaining builds! I tried to loosely base each of these treants off of a type of tree, though this is pretty much the first time I've done treesearch. I also did my best to give each treant a unique color scheme! Assembled here, from left to right are the baobab, the birch, the oak, the cherry blossom, the coconut, the bald cypress, and the spruce treants! I did my best at editing in a background with limited time, but it is clearly imperfect, so don't zoom in too far!

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Treants come from all over the world, and from all sorts of worlds, with all sorts of ecology. As such, there's really no limit to the species of treants there might be! Though treants as a type of creature can adapt to and grow in nearly any climate, they generally tend to stay where they put down roots, owed to their bodies' settling in to the region they call home. It takes a serious disturbance or threat to truly rouse treants in any great number from far away.

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Here, we see a council of seven treants gathered together, from all over the world, and in other realms. They seem to be visiting the Feywild, where their oldest friend, the Feyblossom treant in the middle deigned to invite them. It must be a very urgent matter if she called them all from their homes to this other realm. No matter what the threat is, treants are nature's fiercest protectors, and can really face down a challenge when they put their canopies together!

THE FAITHFUL FEYBLOSSOM TREANT.

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(May You Bloom Series, Pt. 7)

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This is the seventh post in a series of treants I've built for the #MayYouBloom challenge hosted by @bricksandfables over on Instagram. Though I wasn't able to post these all actually within the month of May, I still wanted to share the remaining builds! I tried to loosely base each of these treants off of a type of tree, though I'll admit that I'm not overly familiar with the true distinctions between different species. I also did my best to give each treant a unique color scheme, with this one being the most colorful of the bunch! This seventh treant is loosely based on a cherry blossom tree!

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Did you know that treants aren't exclusive to one realm or plane? That's right, you can find treants in the other reflections of the material plane, such as the Feywild. And just as the Feywild has its own unique flavor of flora and fauna, so too does it have its own unique treants. The feyblossom treant is among the most magically gifted of them all. They are often faithful protectors of magical forests, and some of them are as old as the Feywild itself.

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Here we see an ancient Feyblossom tree, thousands of years old, and with the arcane might to match. However, something seems to be troubling her, and she seems to be calling some sort of song. It has a sort of charm to it, almost like you could hear it from realms away. I wonder who might heed the call..?

THE FAITHFUL FEYBLOSSOM TREANT.

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(May You Bloom Series, Pt. 7)

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This is the seventh post in a series of treants I've built for the #MayYouBloom challenge hosted by @bricksandfables over on Instagram. Though I wasn't able to post these all actually within the month of May, I still wanted to share the remaining builds! I tried to loosely base each of these treants off of a type of tree, though I'll admit that I'm not overly familiar with the true distinctions between different species. I also did my best to give each treant a unique color scheme, with this one being the most colorful of the bunch! This seventh treant is loosely based on a cherry blossom tree!

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Did you know that treants aren't exclusive to one realm or plane? That's right, you can find treants in the other reflections of the material plane, such as the Feywild. And just as the Feywild has its own unique flavor of flora and fauna, so too does it have its own unique treants. The feyblossom treant is among the most magically gifted of them all. They are often faithful protectors of magical forests, and some of them are as old as the Feywild itself.

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Here we see an ancient Feyblossom tree, thousands of years old, and with the arcane might to match. However, something seems to be troubling her, and she seems to be calling some sort of song. It has a sort of charm to it, almost like you could hear it from realms away. I wonder who might heed the call..?

THE CHEERFUL COCONUT TREANT.

(May You Bloom Series, Pt. 6)

This is the sixth post in a series of treants I've built for the #MayYouBloom challenge hosted by @bricksandfables over on Instagram. Though I wasn't able to post these all actually within the month of May, I still wanted to share the remaining builds! I tried to loosely base each of these treants off of a type of tree, though I'll admit that I'm not a tree scholar. I also did my best to give each treant a unique color scheme. This build was built and planned as a bonus to post after the rest of the crew had been posted, but, due to the delay in posting the others, I'm able to post her as part of the main series. This sixth treant is based on a coconut tree!

We've established that treants can exist in all sorts of climates, and that they come in many different species of tree. One of the most recognizable traits of a treant, however... is that you can't recognize them at all! When entirely motionless and inert, treants are undistinguishable from normal trees. The relative stealth of treant species, then, can be measured by how often they're active. Here, we see a coconut treant who rarely seems to be inactive. Indeed, it seems nothing is able to take the pep from her step!

Coconut treants are some of the most lively of their kind, and spend much of their time singing, dancing, and aiding other living creatures in their ecosystems. It's not at all uncommon for a treant of this variety to provide shelter to smaller creatures from heavy storms, and even build shelter from its fallen fronds to help out the local wildlife. Because of their joyous, sing-song nature, tropical birds are often drawn to them, making quite the chorus on the beach. This treant seems to be dancing her way to other lands entirely, however. I wonder what song might be calling to her..?