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About Varied / Student Tim Huynh Le27/Male/United States Recent Activity
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What a miserable human being I am. All I can think about after that fight was how no one understands how I felt about anything. And in the process I internally put down her insecurities as petty. What wondrous hypocrisy. I hate what a wretched thing I can be.
Warlock Warforged by OrangeSbr
Warlock Warforged
Came up with a character for 5th edition, a Great Old One Blade Pact Warlock Warforged.

Yeah, a little ridiculous.

Would this character survive? Who knows. But I just wanted to draw again. And see if I could really draw something like a robot.

I'll see if I can get an actual scan later.
No, no plans to die. Just been super busy. In spite of not being able to do my job at my new workplace until just recently.

Oh yeah, I'm working.

In addition, just moved!

So now that things are starting to settle down, once I can get past the crippling depression of being unable to adjust to the new digs (which is really nice, btw, but brain still hasn't quite called it home yet), I'm gonna start doing more artwork.

Also, I'm likely gonna drop the prices I set for my artwork. I know the lack of interest is probably more due to the fact I haven't actually DONE anything in a while, but I also feel like I was trying to make up for what I was making at a job elsewhere, and it shouldn't be that.

I'll need to settle into a rhythm of doing artwork more regularly, barring something happening at work and I have to drop everything for that (yeah, sorta one of those).

Some of the pieces I have in the works right now include a fully digital painting of a Saurian from my original game setting and an attempt to do some fanart of RWBY.

Le GASP! (Last name puns?) Tim is making fanart?

The last time I did that was... well, what, the one where Ayane was dressing as Squall or something?

I didn't really feel like fanart was a path I wanted to go down, but it seems people don't want originality, so for me it's an attempt to draw people in and get people more interested. Also, I like RWBY, and while I haven't dove into the dark ravines of fandom, I'm fairly sure it's ravenous.

Also, I probably mentioned it before, but Monty Oum is, like he is for many animators and artists in general, is definitely one of my heroes, and I felt I wanted to honor that in some way. I'm sad I'll never get a chance to meet him in person and tell him that, but if I can produce something that can be appreciated by at least one of his fans, I feel like in some way that will be something I can look forward to.
The woman found herself reaching up with her slender hands to the wizened old man. She could barely make out his features, silhouetted against a bright light, almost like a halo. She felt tears well up in her eyes, but found herself unable to blink them away. His beard and clothes swayed with the wind, the only movement in his stoic visage. However, his stern countenance was marred with the remorse seen in his single visible eye, and a slight wetness streaming out from under the eyepatch over his other.

She suddenly grasped the man’s hand, and felt her mouth open. She couldn’t hear anything come out of it, but the man seemed to understand with the closing of his eye and a solemn nod. He raised his large, ornate spear and slammed the butt into the ground. A ring of fire encircled her. She wanted to recoil in fear, but she found herself gazing up at the man and felt her mouth curling into a smile of gratitude. The man smiled back, and patted her on the head. As he reached out and brushed her silvery locks away from her teary face, wings unfurled from his back, scattering pure white feathers about that seemed to glow. The man ascended into the sky as the flame walls grew higher around her. Her visions blurred as she felt fatigue hit. Her eyes lost focus as she fought to stay conscious, but lost. She fell face first onto the fortress’s stone floor.

She felt the impact, but the hollow echo of her head against wood was the only sound that rose above a whisper during the entire ordeal. her eyes finally opened as she peered out from under her silver bangs. Her dingy little room’s only source of light was the moonlight filtering through the shoddily made shutters. Finally in control once more, she pushed off of the floor with her small arms and made her way to the casement. She climbed the bed with her tiny frame and pushed the window open. Light flooded the room, and the low whistling of the spring breeze filtering through the holes ceased. She enjoyed the wind’s full embrace, welcome to her skin as she aired her sweaty clothes. She let out a long breath and relaxed as she listened to the crickets chirping in the distance.

She looked down at her hands, opening and closing them. They were much smaller and stout than the graceful, slender ones she had before. She was still only a child, but seemed like a really beautiful woman in her dream. She heard a soft knock at her door.

“Sieglinde?” she heard muffled through the frame.

Sieglinde quietly walked over and slowly pulled it open. The tiny boy before her glanced nervously about, checking either end of the hall. Sieglinde motioned him in and tried to close the door as quietly as she could.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said as she turned around. She wasn’t quite sure if it was the truth or not.

“Did you dream about your future again?”

“I don’t know… it might be the future,” she wondered, but chuckled. “But I’m pretty sure I can’t grow wings, Lucian.”

“But you were a Valkyrie again, right?”

“Yeah. The old man was there, too.”

“Do you think-”

They both froze up at the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall. With a quick glance at each other, they both scrambled for the bed. Throwing the blanket over themselves, Sieglinde held Lucien close under the covers and minimized their profile. She closed her eyes just as the footsteps were at their loudest. She willed herself from jumping out of her skin when the metal slot on her door opened. She waited to open her eyes again until she heard the slot slide shut again, and longer still for the footsteps to recede before leaving the bed. She crept up to the door and put an ear to the wood, listening for any signs of the patrol. Satisfied, she turned back to Lucian with a bit of worry.

“Don’t worry,” he answered with another smile. “I set it up to look like I was still there.”

“Still, it might be best if you went back now.”

He nodded, and when she slowly opened the door, he slipped on through.

“Oh, Lucian.”

The boy glanced back.

“Thanks for checking up on me.”

He smiled and stepped into the darkness.

“Wretched thing!” The severe woman cursed as she slapped Sieglinde across the face.

The girl fell to the floor. She held a hand to her cheek to salve the blow, but glared defiantly up at the woman.

“You filthy mongrel!” The adult grabbed the silver haired child and dragged her down the hall.

Sieglinde offered futile resistance, kicking and screaming. It wasn’t long before she found herself staring up into the sky, her heels skipping along the cracks of the courtyard’s stone tiles. She heard a door swing open before feeling herself hurled by the collar into a dark space. The foundling rolled a good distance before she stopped.

“You’ll stay here as punishment!” The woman decreed as the door slammed shut.

The sound of the padlock locking sealed her fate. The child finally managed to sit up, only to curl into a shivering ball of tears. No matter how many times she ended up here, she never could get used to getting thrown about like garbage. Isolation was a different matter. Once the shock wore off, she still desperately hoped someone would come save her or be moved by her tears. She swore bitter curses at the caretaker. After a while, though, she always got used to the solitude. Sieglinde couldn’t see very well in the dark at first, but after letting her eyes adjust, the child could make out various shapes in the repurposed derelict home.

Her fears subsided a while later. Those dreams of being a warrior maiden inspired her imagination, and soon those vague shapes became something more: mountains to climb, demons to slay, armies to rout, and fortresses to infiltrate. Today, she brandished a lance to vanquish a dragon. The broom was on the hefty side for her to call it a spear, she felt. She wondered why she’d never seen stories where knights would use the lance on foot, so she would make one herself. The boxes stacked on the table made a good dragon. The stage of the dragon’s lair was already set.

“Foul dragon! You shall fall at the tip of my lance!” She thrust with the broom handle, but found the improvised weapon’s balance threw her far forward after. However, the lance found its mark in one of the many boxes that buried the table. It merely bounced, but that didn’t deter her. She let the momentum carry her and followed through.

Sieglinde tripped and plowed through the crates headfirst. She dug herself out, rubbing her face from one small chest that nailed her in between the eyes. The chest had broken open, its contents spilling onto the floor. She frantically scrambled to pick them back up: some carved wooden figures, mostly. They seemed somewhat familiar, but the connection didn’t click until she saw the tattered journal. She found a small ray of light that found its way into the house and brought the book under the sun.

She had seen it before. “See... Seeg… Sig... mooned. Sig moaned. Sigmund.” It was her father’s.

She slowly peeled it open. Her father’s handwriting was really neat, but she couldn’t really read it very well. There were a lot of loops on the letters, so she couldn’t recognize them, but she did seem to make out what looked like was her own name. Lucian could read better than she could, so she held it close. She took a closer look at the figures, which she remembered her father carving. She played with them all the time. she picked out her favorite one immediately: A woman in armor, her head adorned with an open helm that protected the woman’s forehead and ears, with what looked like wings sprouting from the lobes.

The old man with the impressive beard was before her again, standing tall and as stoic as ever as she walked down the great hall. Her proud stride had her head held high. She stooped into a bow as she stopped before him, arm across her chest in salute, before she kneeled.

Sieglinde couldn’t hear anything again, but apparently her dream self could, reaching up with her hands. She felt the cold press of steel against her palms. She found herself standing up as she gazed upon the armor and winged helmet that the man had bestowed upon her.

Her eyes opened into the real world again. Her hands were held before her like in her dream, back to her normal childlike appendages. She frowned, staring at them. Morning chirping of birds annoyed her enough to drag herself out of bed just before she heard the clashing of a banging pot.

“Everyone up!” came the voice of the caretaker through the walls. “It’s time for breakfast!” From anyone else, it would have sounded like a sweet gesture, but the venom dripping from the woman’s voice corrupted the innocuous phrase.

As she left her sparsely decorated room, she noticed her father's journal was sticking out from under the nightstand, and quickly kicked it under to hide it before continuing on her way.

The other foundlings made room for her, whispering as she walked past. Her eyes darkened, fully expecting this treatment but saddened all the same. She brushed her hair out from her eyes, the silver locks with a sheen only found in metals. Her hair had become more lustrous as time had passed.

The younger kids’ talk was more of wonder. One of the newer ones asked the others what language she was apparently speaking in her sleep. But it was the “older” kids that treated her with disdain.

“Freak,” she overheard one say.

She whirled around with her tiny fists, attempting to land blows on the larger girl. Failing, she lunged and tackled her to the ground. The younger kids scrambled away while the older kids circled up and started cheering. For the other girl.

At least it wasn’t as bad as the treatment she got from the Matron. The next thing she knew, the two of them were pulled apart. The world spun as she was slapped across the face.

“You never change!” the woman grabbed her by the collar and dragged her off again.

Sieglinde kicked and screamed, having more success in fighting against the matron’s weaker grip. The aging adult had to wrap her arms around the girl’s waist and haul her to the old house.

Finally thrust into the darkness, this time Sieglinde only stumbled in, catching herself to stare back at the woman. She fought back the tears and bit her quivering lip as the woman shakily closed the door. She listened to the woman’s ragged breaths before turning back to the darkness. The girl couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and sobbed into her hands.

It felt like an eternity as she cried. She missed the old days where the kids didn’t treat her any different. She missed having friends around that rallied with her against the matron. Most of all, she missed having a family.

“Lind!” she heard, barely a whisper. “Sieglinde!”

She groggily picked herself up off the floor, rubbing the dried tears off her face. She might have passed out from hunger again, she thought, and cried herself to sleep.

“Over here!”

She ran over to the boarded back window, the sunset light filtering in through the cracks. One of the boards had moved, and she found a familiar face.

“Lucian!” She cried out. The once small boy now towered over her, probably at least twice her height. “I’ve missed you!” She took his larger hand and held it close to her heart as the tears she shed took a different flavor.

“I missed you too,” he replied softly.

“How’s work?”

“The others like to tease me a lot, but they seem nice enough.” His gentle gaze hardened when he noted the bruises on her face.

“The matron only punished me again,” she whimpered.

“I see,” he said. “I asked another Aasimar how it was like growing up. He just… got this far away look in his eyes.”

“I don’t wanna be an Aasimar,” she cried as her voice started breaking up. “I want to grow up like everyone else. No one likes me. And-and-and even if they did, they always leave me like-like you did.”

He let out a long sigh as he pulled her as close as he could through the small gap. “I’m not leaving you, okay, Lind? Look, as soon as I have enough money, I can get my own house and you can live with me, okay?”

Sieglinde barely managed to nod. They both flinched when they heard the door of the main building squeak open. Lucian pulled away, but Lind grasped his hand.

He gave her a sorrowful smile. “I’ll be back for you. I promise.”

"You promise?”

Lucian grasped her smallest finger with his. “Pinky promise.” After seeing the girl smile finally, he wiped away her tears and vanished into the alley.

Sieglinde watched longingly after him, but turned around and gave the matron her strongest glare as the door swung open.

“I’m surprised there’s no mess this time around,” the aging lady commented before seeing the defiance still in the girl’s eyes, in spite of their puffiness from her crying. A flash of fury creased her brow and bared her teeth, but what chilled Sieglinde the most was the wicked smile she gave her shortly after.

Lind flinched as the woman reached out to her.

“Come along now,” the woman gently coaxed.

The foundling drew her arms in closer to herself.

“Come on,” the matron insisted as she grabbed the girl’s arm anyways. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Taking the girl to her own chambers, she fed her a stale biscuit, directed her to wash her face and sat her down on a stool after she was finished. The woman carefully applied foundation to Sieglinde’s face first, covering her bruises, and then adding color to her cheeks with blush. The woman seemed thoughtful looking at her kit of makeup, picking up some lip rouge, but decided against it and picked up balm instead, applying it to the girl.

“Why are you putting makeup on me?” Lind asked as the matron finished.

“Well, there’s some good news,” she answered. “Some people were interested in… adopting you.”

“People? It wasn’t Lucian?”

“Gods, no. That boy still couldn’t afford to support himself, let alone you as well.”

“But I wanna live with Lucian!” She declared as she started tearing up again.

The woman clicked her tongue, her anger seemed to flair up, but she took a deep breath. “You know, there are lots of people who would like you if you went with them.” She carefully wiped the girl’s forming tears. “They know a lot of people.”

“People who will like me?”

“Yes, they’d like you very much.”

“... Well, I guess I can meet them first.”

“... Of course.”

The two left and went down the hall together for the parlor. Two men in dark, ornate robes had waited for them, And they both looked up expectantly as the arrivals. They smiled at the matron, but the audible gasp of awe when they laid eyes on Sieglinde made her skin crawl.

“We thought you were pulling our leg,” the larger one admitted, “but it seems like you really do have an Aasimar foundling here.”

“It’s not often the parents just abandon them,” the beanpole added.

“The father was doing quite admirably raising her alone,” she said with a facade of sorrow, “in spite of the hard times, but he unfortunately passed away.” she put a hand on the child’s head, who visibly recoiled. “I couldn’t help but take her in myself. I thought she was only a human at first, but when she wasn’t growing and the other children started picking on her…”

“Oh, of course,” the lard tub interjected.

“How dreadful,” the walking stick added. “She will be well taken care of with us, though, I assure you.”

“She has such pretty eyes,” the partner observed, “And her lustrous hair that shines almost like platinum… Come here, child, so I may take a look.”

Lind cautiously took a few steps before the matron barred her path.

“I believe there are more important matters to discuss,” the woman said coldly. “I trust seeing her has satisfied your curiosity?”

“... Of course,” the wafer replied. He gave a long look at Sieglinde before turning his attention back to the matron. “I’m sure the child doesn’t need to hear about the boring details, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t,” the matron answered. “Sieglinde, why don’t you return to your room?”

The girl nodded and made a hasty retreat. She closed the door behind her and started to make her way back.

“She’s a bit young looking,” she overheard the scarecrow through the door, “But we do have clients who are into that sort of thing.”

“I might want to take a taste of her myself,” the corpulent one added.

“What you want to do with her is of no concern of mine,” she heard the matron speak before she stealthily bolted. She curled up on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest. The words she heard made her skin crawl, being treated like a piece of meat, but she wasn’t quite sure why.

She looked back down at her nightstand and decided to pull out the journal again. She flipped through to the page she last stopped at.

Hilde says she had those dreams again. Dreams of battles on a golden plain with gleaming armor and winged helm. An old man who seemed like a father appeared often. Today there was a different man rescued her from a ring of fire, though she couldn’t make out much of him from the blaze. She says that the baby will be coming soon. From what I’ve heard from the other villagers, she’s had a remarkably easier time with this pregnancy than most. I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl.

Their future child yawned and lethargically rubbed her eyes. She had gotten better at reading thanks to Lucian before he started working, but the little lighting made her tired, straining her eyes in the darkness. She had heard that most Aasimar could see in the dark, but she had trouble still.

It wasn’t until she heard a knock at her window she had noticed she had drifted off. She tucked the journal between the bed and nightstand and reached for the shutters. She pulled them open to find Lucian crouched on the awning below her window.

“Lucian!” she whispered, barely able to contain her delight before she noticed his consternation. “What’s wrong?”

“Ssh,” he warned her. “Be quiet, Lind. Listen, we gotta run. Come with me, quickly!”

“Sure, but where are we going?”

They both jumped when the door burst open with the matron’s full visage of rage in view.

“You little thief!” she cried out, brandishing the paddle.

“Time to go!” Lucian announced as he hoisted the girl up by the waist and booked it.

“Lucian, I want to get Father’s journal,” Linde pleaded as Lucian led her by the hand up the hill.
“We can’t go back anymore,” he replied.

“Why can’t we go back?”

“... I won’t let them take you.”

“They said they knew a lot of people who would like me.”

He stopped.


He whirled about. “They wouldn’t like you for who you are!” he yelled, but his face changed when she started tearing up. “No, I’m sorry,” he said sorrowfully.

“I hate being an Aasimar!” she bawled out, wailing all the while.

“No, Sieglinde,” he reassured while holding her close. “That’s not what I meant. There are plenty of people who would like you for who you are. I like you, for example. And many would want to be your friend like I am.” He stroked the back of her head as her sobs slightly subsided. “But those people they were talking about aren’t people who would be your friend.”

“R-really?” she asked meekly, sniffling.

“Really. They would be very selfish people who’d only want to… help themselves. Do you understand?”


“That’s good enough. Ready to walk some more?”

The little girl nodded, and they continued walking on their way. They crested over the hill and into a massive field of white flowers, petals wafting on the wind and blossoms that blanketed the ground out to the horizon. Linde’s gasp of surprise and shriek of delight was the only warning she gave before running into the meadow, laughing all the while.

“Sieglinde!” the young man called out, worried.

“What is it?” she called back, giving him a huge smile.

His look of worry melted away and he gave in with his own grin, shaking his head and shooing her into the field.

It was the distant roar they both heard that brought back the dread.

They both stopped. The air seemed to stand still with them as they searched for the cry’s source.

Sieglinde was the one to spot it first, a dark blob in the distance. “What’s that, Lucian?” she asked as she pointed.

The slight tremor didn’t even register to Lucian at first, but it steadily grew stronger as the blob grew larger. He squinted, trying to make sense of the shape, but it was when they both saw long, curved horns that he acted. He dove and grabbed his charge as a mass of rippling muscle impacted where she was just moments before.

Lind struggled to move, pinned by the boy’s mass, and stared straight into the eyes of a demon.

“How?!” Lucian picked himself up and grabbed the girl as he broke into a run, away from the fiend whose large maw split into a malicious sneer. “This is days of travel beyond the wardstones!”

The demon lunged at the pair, but the human barely managed to dive out of the way. Sieglinde flew from his grasp, tumbling through the flowers.

She barely managed to lift herself up with her own arms, scraped and bruised. She watched as Lucian drew a small dagger and placed himself between her and the otherworldly being.

She then watched as the demon swatted him aside like a fly, the crunching of bone the only mark he had been there at all. His broken body sailed through the air before noiselessly rolling through the flowers, petals scattering to mark his passage.

“Lucian…?” she called out, hoping he would get back up.

The snarling brought her attention back to the matter at hand, the demon slowly approaching. She desperately looked around and found the boy’s dagger, shakily picking it up and pointed it at the fiend. She could barely make out the fiend’s features silhouetted in the moonlight, beyond his glowing, green eyes.

“S-stay back!” she pitifully warned.

It sneered again and took another step.

“Back! F-foul creature!” she found herself saying in spite of a face full of tears, even taking a step forward with a sudden bright flash of light.

The demon suddenly halted, shielding its eyes for that brief moment. Sieglinde took her chance to dive into the fiend and led with the blade.

Her thrust against its leathery skin simply shattered the knife.

She looked down at the remains of her weapon, tears welling up faster as the light from behind her began to fade.

“Aasimar,” she heard it growl. She looked up as it raised its fist. The next thing she knew, everything went black as it collided with her

She blearily opened her eyes, blinking a few times to try and regain her sight, but squeezed them shut when she got a face full of sunlight. She shifted her head out of the beam of light that filtered through the tent.

“Yer alive!” she heard a low, gravely voice exclaim. “Din’t think ye’d make it, teh be honest.”

She finally regained her senses and sat up, finding herself face to face with a short and stout man only foot taller than her.

“Ye know, yer lucky we saw yer glowin’ wings where we were,” the Dwarf before her commented. “Told us ‘xactly where to find the soddin’ thing. Blasted demon ran off, though, th’ gutless coward.”

“Wings?” she lethargically asked. “Where am I?”

“Not too far from th’ meadow we found ye in. Ye were in bad shape when we found ye. Thought ye’d have died a few minutes later.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Y’were out fer a couple weeks, lil’ one. Honestly not sure how ye pulled through. Even with healing magic, we cast everything we had left, and ye still had ta fight fer ev’ry breath. Yet here ye be, as hale an’ hearty as the rest of us.” He prodded her in the belly. “Din’t think someone so young could sport a six pack.”

She looked down at her stomach, finding she was slightly lumpy in places.

“Not the best set o’ muscles I’ seen. That title belongs to yers truly.” He lifted his shirt and pounded his rippling gut with his fist. “Still, ye’d think we’d a’ noticed when we patched ya up. Speakin’ a which…” he took a hold of her arm, examined her, looking around. “Ye don’t have a scratch on ya… strange. Life threatenin’ injuries usually leave somethin’...”

“Where’s Lucian?”

He stopped, and when she looked into his eyes, his gaze darted downward. “He, uh…” He scratched his head. “Might be better if ye just saw.”

He led the girl by her hand outside the tent. The field of flowers was just as beautiful as she saw before, but around the side was a small mound and a bouquet of picked flowers across it. A short sword had been thrust at its head.

“He was already gone by th’ time we got teh ‘im,” he said somberly.

“Like… like mom and dad?” she asked quietly, collapsing to her knees. She felt the tears well up and spill over her cheeks, but she didn’t wail this time. The Dwarf’s awkward silence as he scratched the back of his head told her all she needed to know. “You broke your promise after all,” she whispered to the grave.

“... I’m sorry, lil’ one. I don’t know how tough things were fer ye two, but… Ye can take ye to th’ closest city, if ye’d like. Egede, I think it was. Maybe we c’n drop ye off at an orphana-”

“Take me with you,” she demanded as she stood up.


She whirled around, tears still streaming down her face. “Please, take me with you!”

“... I don’t think ye understand, lil’ one. We’re not jes’ travelin’ on a vacation ‘ere. We’re on’re way teh th’ frontlines teh fight demons. It migh’ be best if ye jus-”

“I can’t go back!” She shouted, barely keeping herself from tears.

“... World’s a dang’rous place, y’know. Th’ demons’ve brought th’ Abyss ‘pon us ‘round here. Almost literally.”

Linde took it all in, still sniffling. “Then I- then I wanna make the demons stop.”

The Dwarf opened his mouth, ready to rebuke her, but hesitated, digesting her words. “Will ye fight?”

The image of the green eyed demon flashed through her mind. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”

“Yes ye can.” Taller than the girl despite his race, he kneeled on one knee and looked her dead in the eye. “Ye can always fight. Don’t matter if ye win’r lose doin’ so. We saw those las’ few seconds. Ye still trieda stick th’ demon yerself. Sure, ye can’t fight well, but I din’t ask ye if ye could.” He grasped her shoulder. “Lemme ask ye again. Will you fight?”

Sieglinde looked at the grave. She remembered the smiles, the warm hugs, the nights sneaking into each others’ rooms. She found she had unconsciously clenched her fist. “I will.”

Thundering hooves echoed through the meadow. They turned to see warriors riding towards them. The Dwarf raised his hand in salute, and the riders responded in kind. “Well, sounds like yer comin’ along for the ride then…. uh… what’s yer name, kiddo?” He started taking down his tent, and motioned for her to help.

“Sieglinde,” she responded. She held the struts as he handed them to her. “What’s your name, mister?”

He frowned again, his beard shifting from side to side. “Mister…” he mumbled, but continued to roll up the canvas. “Th’ name’s Donik Anvilgut.”

“Anvilgut?” She giggled as he pulled open his pack and stuffed the tent into it.

“M’ name’s funny to ye, eh?” He opened another compartment on his pouch and thrust his arm deep. “Yer gonna need a weapon....” He pulled out several melted blades and axes from the sack. “Dunno if we have many spares after runnin’ ‘cross a rust monster…” Donik pulled out a short bow. He frowned at it and almost tossed it aside, but did a double take. The Dwarf took a look at the tiny girl he was about to take into battle, then back at the bow, stroking his red beard. He stood it next to the girl and found it almost matched her in height. “Well, better’n nothin’, I suppose.” He fished out a quiver of arrows and handed the weapon to her, who handled it awkwardly. He fastened the quiver at her waist and slung the bow over her shoulder. "I’ll ask th’ Elf teh make ye some armor later.”

Sieglinde looked down at the string of the bow, taut against her chest. She fiddled with it to make it more comfortable, and looked up at Donik, who chuckled as he fished out a helmet of his pack and donned it.

She gasped when she noticed the large wings sweeping back from the ears of the helm.

“Like my helmet, do ye?” He pressed a hand against his forehead, closing his eyes. He flared them open and thrust his palm forward, and with a howl, a ghostly wolf sprung forth from nowhere. He mounted up as the girl took a few tentative steps back. “Found it in th’ Worldwound couple years ago. Prol’ly somethin’ from the Firs’ Crusade.”
“Can I wear it?” she asked, her eyes gluing back to the article in question.

He extended a hand out to her, his beard shifting as he formed a smile underneath. “In yer dreams, kiddo.”

Sieglinde opened her eyes to find a man hovering over her. She tried to move, but found she was unable to move her body again. Relenting to her dream’s playback, she watched as the man silhouetted by the wall of flames slowly removed her winged helmet. Her dream self reached up to him as the light of the fire engulfed her vision.

Lind blinked and found herself on her back, staring at the dark, early morning sky, her slender fingers outstretched as it was in the dream. She brought it back and flexed her fingers, noting how calloused her drawing hand had become over the years. She felt the slight tremor in the earth beneath her and rolled to her feet, snatching up her composite bow.

Donik nearby got up as well, streaks of silver in his red beard shifting as he, too, sensed the change. Sariel, their Elven ranger, was already up and about, darting silently to the others of their company and woke them up. The lithe fey lady smiled warmly at Sieglinde as she passed, who smiled back with a slight blush.

Sieglinde double-checked the straps on her armor and put on her feathered headband before checking her bow. Satisfied, she nodded to Donik. Anvilgut nodded back, donned his Valkyrie helmet and pushed forward while Sieglinde moved to flank. The ranger took the other flank, her hawk taking to the skies and watched over the ranger. The half-orc Warpriest, Kronoq, took up his position beside Thrawn, a human Paladin, and the pair followed Anvilgut to the clearing. Thrawn whispered some commands to his cohort, Hans, who quietly relayed his commands to his men.

Lind thought back on the past few decades as she whispered a spell on her quiver. Followers of Gorum weren’t exactly common to the area, but any that found their way to Mendev often came to join their little “militia”. She’d seen several comrades rise to the occasion and fall in battle. She was starting to warm up to Thrawn, and Kronoq had his moments, but it was Sariel and Donik that were constants to their impromptu army. They were all brought together for one reason: all of them relished fighting in the constant turmoil of the Worldwound.

Satisfied with the enchantment on her arrows, she watched over the stage of their next dedication to Gorum from her outcropping. In the distance of the valley floor was a detachment of demons lead by a large, boar-like fiend with tiny wings that definitely could not support its weight. That wasn’t her target. She would leave that to the main force. Sariel and her had a different objective. She scanned the brushes and groves that lined the sides of the valley. She noticed Donik breaking into the clearing on wolfback, his greatsword drawn and raised as he declared his judgement. The army broke into a charge against the fiends. That’s when she saw the movement on his left flank.

With practiced accuracy, she drew her breath and arrow, and let go of both. Her first arrow flew out into the clearing just as the blur leapt into its path. The hound-like Nerizo had just opened its jaws as the arrow pierced its skull. She had already nocked another arrow for the next one who burst through. This Nerizo noted its fallen comrade’s new decoration and stopped mid stride. But it was too late.

Sieglinde had already let loose another arrow, and drew back a follow-up shot with an arrow she already had prepped in her draw hand. The first struck deep in its flank, the second went through the roof of its mouth as it yelped in anguish. The leading fiendish hound on Anvilgut’s right flank found a diving hawk tearing open a deep gash into its side before an arrow nestled tail-feather deep in the wound, right about where its heart would be. Sieglinde saw Donik’s smile as he met head on with the enemy, with his two archers ready to stop anyone who wouldn’t honor their Lord in Iron in earnest. Sieglinde found herself grinning, too, as the demon’s poorly disguised ambush detachment came into view, their leader clearly marked.

The army raised their mugs in celebration, another night out in the Worldwound behind them and many more battles to come. Sieglinde wasn’t typically as boisterous as the rest, but she still drank her stash of ale with a smile. She picked out Sariel from the crowd, who smiled again and waved her over. The Aasimar picked her way through the crowd and sat next to the Elven lady. They both sat silently, but smiled all the same as they listened to the cheers of their comrades and the boasting of their day’s acts of valor.

“There’re me two girls!” called out Donik as he approached. The two in question looked up and found him stumbling about a little, but not terribly much. He was only a little past his prime as a dwarf now, but he still took precautions to keep at the ready. Still, it was by a Dwarf’s standards, so he still reeked of booze. “Ye two lovebirds start smoochin’ yet?”

“You know it’s not like that, Donik,” Sieglinde replied sheepishly, but found herself dragged in for a hug by Sariel.

“When you declared that everyone had to go through you,”  the fey being started, “to win the right to fight her for her hand in marriage…”

“.... T’was a draw.” Donik answered with a gruff snort. “Don’t count, ye cheeky elf.”

Sieglinde just laughed quietly and held onto Sariel’s arms.

Then all three of them flinched as bloodlust filled the air, the air crackling as a storm rapidly formed overhead.

The pig-like demon they had fought had suddenly appeared in the midst of camp. It immediately raised a fat hand above its head and arced lightning through the troops. Hans and his crew were rendered catatonic. Their barely intact lives were taken as armored fiends leapt from behind their commander’s back. They fell upon the horses first.

“Damned Nalfeshnee came back fer more!” Donik cried out as he drew out his massive cold-iron blade and donned his trademark helmet. “Keep th’ Hezrou off m’ back, girls! Thrawn, Kronoq! On me!”

Sieglinde rolled for her bow and snagged as many arrows as she could from the quiver, while Sariel had hers at the ready, drawing arrows from her back quiver and kept several at the ready with her draw hand.

That’s when they saw the tall, thin, spindly figure with leathery black wings step out from behind the boorish demon.

“Nabasu!” Kronoq yelled out, identifying the demon. “This one’s all grown up, too!”

It turned its gaze onto the half orc, who staggered back as life force drained from him.

“Coward…!” he wheezed. “Fight me like… a man…!”

Sieglinde swapped her aim to the slender fiend, but one of the armored demons got in her field of view. She kicked it away, but found herself backpedaling as it continued to close distance. She finally put it down with three arrows simultaneously, landing in a neat line across its face only a hair’s breadth apart.

Anvilgut stepped in front of his staggered ally and swung his blade, singing as it split the air. It bit into the scarecrow but its divine glow dulled as it passed through and gashed the demon. Thrawn charged in with his heavy blade, but met the demon’s claws, rending his armor and throwing him to the ground. He rolled back to his feet, still ready to fight just as the Nalfeshnee stepped forward. With a howl, a profane burst of energy enveloped the melee combatants. Thrawn stood his ground, weathering the burst. Donik seemed unaffected, but Kronoq fell to his knees, howling. The Nabasu closed in with terrifying speed, but it was Donik who intercepted him, tackling the demon aside. The boar-headed demon threw a cross to destroy the Dwarven Inquisitor, but the Paladin stepped in to take the blow. He held firm, the earth cracking and sinking beneath his feet.

Then they heard his bones snap as he vanished under its force.

Donik yelled as he threw the lanky demon aside, turning to face the pig fiend. Swinging his blade in wide arcs, he held the two at bay from Kronoq. The Half-Orc struggled to get a grip, and finally managed to wrest free of the visions, but too late as Donik got sideswiped by the Nalfeshnee. The Dwarf got lucky, barely putting his blade up to divert the blow enough away from himself. But Kronoq wasn’t as lucky as the Nabasu chose to impale him at that moment with its arm.

Sieglinde cried out, her bow suddenly aglow with energy as she used it as a melee weapon, bashing in the skull of the last Hezrou. Sariel charged in with her and drew her longsword, providing her partner cover as Sieglinde drew and shot several arrows in a spread against the Nabasu. The demon retreated and left its victim to fall. The Aasimar caught the body with one arm, but winced when she saw her comrade was no more.

The elf fought to cover Donik’s recovery from the blow, distracting the boar demon as best as she could. When the dwarf got back up, he joined in, keeping the Nabasu from flanking his friend. Sieglinde tried as best as she could to cover them in the chaotic melee.

“It’s time to retreat!” Sariel concluded, cartwheeling out of the way of another meaty hook.

“But-!” Lind started protesting.

“It’s a tactical withdrawal!” Donik answered, repositioning himself at the Elf’s back.

Lind gritted her teeth as she noted where her comrades lay slain, but laid covering fire as her allies fell back to her position. Together, they fell back, breaking into a full sprint.

They forgot the demons could teleport.

Instantly upon them, Sariel barely managed to dodge the Nabasu’s claws rending from the darkness. Right into the grip of the Nalfeshnee. She struggled in its meaty hands, trying to get air. Then it squeezed. Bones snapped, right along with Sieglinde’s heart as it threw her body aside.

The Aasimar wailed as she fired recklessly into the demons, arrows finding their mark, but they no longer cutting deep, her focus shattered and her aim thrown by tears. Nearly casting aside her bow, she was stopped with a grip around her waist. Throwing her back as the demons nearly took off her head, Donik managed to duck under the Nabasu’s deadly claws. As he recovered, he yelled out in an ancient language a command that ethereally reverberated, the demons stopping in their tracks. Then he whispered another spell, energy building in his palm. He flared them out as quickly as he could as ethereal chains leapt from the void and ensnared their necks.

Lind made her way to her feet, stumbling forth, but Donik shoved her back.

“They killed her!” she screamed at him.

“I KNOW!” he shouted back.

She flinched when she noticed his tears streaming down his stern expression. The same expression she could barely make out in her dreams.

“I know, Lind. I know.” He took off his helmet and offered it to her. “Take it. Take it and go.”

She looked at him with her eyes wide. “No, I’m not losing you too-”

“And I’m not losin’ me only other daughter!” He shouted back and threw it at her. “Live to fight another day. Fer her. Fer me. Fer all of us.”

She stared at the helmet she had coveted all her life, the tears streaming harder as she turned it over in her hands. “F-for all of you….” She donned the helm, and like she’d seen him do so many times before, pressed her trembling palm to the forehead and cast forth the mist wolf. She ran alongside as it bounded forth and mounted it in mid leap, taking off as fast as she could into the sky. She turned back to take one final look.

He nodded at her and turned back to the demons, chanting. He walked forth as he began to glow and almost immediately grew to the size of the fiends before him.

She turned away, shutting her eyes and letting the tears fall as she heard him bellow at the top of his lungs in his deep, sonorous voice. She whispered the Gorumskagat he recited alongside him:

“The clash of sword on shield is my song! I am in your armor, your blade! Strike at your foes and I guide your hand, for I thirst only for battle!”

Listening to his final warcry, Sieglinde focused on the path ahead. “Live to fight another day.”
Ghosts of the War Angel
A lengthy backstory in literary form for my Aasimar Inquisitor of Gorum.

Yes, the backstory shows heavy influence from Valkyrie Profile's prologue (Was it not obvious when I left the name as Lucian? Heck, some of the lines are left intact in the "abduction" scene) with a hint of Brunhilde's tale from the Prose Edda.

She joins in at level 10 of the Wrath of the Righteous Pathfinder campaign run by a good friend of mine, selecting the "Exposed to Awfulness" background trait - seriously, that's what it's called. All the other ones were cool sounding. Why is that one so lame? Will she live at least as long as her backstory has her living? Well, we'll find out. But heck, with a story like this, she might welcome the release.

Why am I so mean to some of my characters?

***EDIT*** WHOOPS! forgot one section.


Character Pencil Sketch - $30 USD*
Guild Wars 2 Alydril - WIP by OrangeSbr
DnD A Team WIP by OrangeSbr
* Price for a single character. Each additional character in the image will cost another $10/1000 points**. Please request the # of characters via note if you are purchasing via points, and I will set up the commission amount here in this widget for you for a limited time.

** Point commissions will be limited to a total of 6 characters due to the point limit of 8000 per commission.
Character Pencil Sketch Shaded - $35 USD*
Ayane Armor Redesign by OrangeSbr
Tobias Valerian - Vanguard by OrangeSbr
Sanguine Falcon by OrangeSbr
* Price for a single character. Each additional character in the image will cost another $10/1000 points**. Please request the # of characters via note if you are purchasing via points, and I will set up the commission amount here in this widget for you for a limited time.

** Multiple characters limited to a total of 5 for Point commissions due to the point limit of 8000.
Character Full Body* Digital Painting** - $75 USD***
Manipulation: Fate - Drow Soldier by OrangeSbr
COMMISSION: Emppu the Silver by OrangeSbr
Crimson-Haired Valkyrie 3 by OrangeSbr
*Subject to pose. May or may not lose legs to cropping, depending on positioning and size of original paper.

** Includes Lined Pencil Sketch.

*** Price for single character. Each additional character in the image is an additional $25 USD. If you are paying via points, I can only accept single character commissions for Digital Paintings, as my prices go beyond the 8000 point limit.
Character Digital Painting + Shaded Pencil Sketch - $80 USD
Same as Digital Painting, with Included Pencil Sketch shaded in.
- These prices are the same for Paypal users, who must send me a Note to ask for a commission. If you want to pay via points using this widget, realize that there will be a 20% service fee on top of the prices listed above, on top of a limit of 20,000 points you can give me. DevArt's rules, not mine. Sorry.
- No hentai or ecchi. I'm dating a Catholic and it's kind of awkward drawing another person's sexual fantasies. It's like watching your friend play one of your adult games on your computer in your room while you stand behind them. It's uncomfortable for me. Especially since that actually happened when a friend of mine came over once. That being said, sensual is okay, just don't go overboard.
- Male x Female, Male x Male or Female x Female, Female x Female x Male, etc. all okay, but it still follows the above guideline and all the per character prices I stated above.
- I am willing to do fan art, but references will be nice. I'll eventually find it on my own, but who knows what a search might turn up...
- Original characters are fun, but references or a relatively decent description will help me immensely. Please. The more physical description you can give me, better the output. Color palettes are appreciated too, for digital painting.
- I'm pretty good at poses, so if you want to leave it to me, that's fine, but it will take a bit longer, depending on the source material (I'm particularly good with martial arts or action poses in general). Personality description will help a lot if need be.
- If you want a specific background, supply me with a reference or a photo (from the public domain or with rights that allow me to work with it), or describe to me what you want to draw. I'll have to tack onto the original price depending on complexity. Sorry, but digital painting at my level is rather time consuming.
- I still retain rights to the image, including publishing/selling the piece among my other works or portfolio. They will all end up here in my DeviantArt Gallery, as well.
- You have the right to use the image for personal purposes, but you cannot commercially profit from it (i.e., selling/mass distributing). If you post it elsewhere, please give credit to me and link back to the image here on DeviantArt.
- Once I've started on the painting, any requests for changes to the pose and structure will be attempted to be fixed, but realize that it's more difficult for me at that phase to fix it. Make sure you let me know if you want something changed while I'm still in the sketching phase.


Tim Huynh Le
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
I’m a game artist in the DC metro area, with a BFA in Computer Game Design and a minor in Computer Science. I write stories and draw manga-influenced art whenever I’ve got free time. That is, if I’m not captivated by anime, manga or games, which along with music, inspire my creativity.

I first learned from “How to” books, particularly Manga Mania: How to Draw Japanese Comics by Christopher Hart, or more recently, by just drawing. In terms of digital coloring, I have lately been tinkering around more in Photoshop.

Outside of my hobbies of drawing, anime, manga and games, I am also a second-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and practice the katana on my own. I also dabble with my guitar from time to time. Recently, I started running original setting pen-and-paper roleplay games with friends, as well.

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Eriyal Featured By Owner May 14, 2016  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav by Eriyal  
OrangeSbr Featured By Owner May 19, 2016  Student General Artist
You are quite welcome ^^ And thank you for stopping by my page!
battlecruiser006 Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016
OrangeSbr Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016  Student General Artist
Thank you!
battlecruiser006 Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2016
You're welcome.
schwarzritter Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016
Happy Birthday dude
OrangeSbr Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016  Student General Artist
Thank you, comrade!
eitho Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday Tim!
Hope you have a lovely fun day on your special day :D 
OrangeSbr Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2016  Student General Artist
Thanks, Ei ^^
s0ulafein Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thx for fav!:happybounce: 
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