D&D Art: A Promise Kept

Howdy folks! First and foremost, as always, Adorable Applejack:

The birth of Applejack's Three Laws of Appul

Caution, the following blog contains a whole lot of OC backstory—like... a lot—followed by probably the most adorable picture you've ever seen. Ye be warned.

Now then...

Y'all remember T.P.K: Total Party Katastrophe, right? The 21K word love letter to my then recently finished Curse of Strahd game. Man, I had fun writing that story. Like, I actually enjoyed writing it! Mostly written on my phone while shamming out on 100% allowed breaks, it began as a simple "our characters meet the ponies" thing and ballooned into a giant fight scene. The most difficult part was the balancing act of remaining true to the character's and their experiences while also keeping it accessible to literally everyone but the five of us who didn't walk this journey as it happened. So a lot of things had to be either glossed over or plain not explained. Like what Ireena meant by "you guys saved my lives," or how Selivar was the "Heir of Argynvostholt..." or what the hell Argynvostholt even is. And more pertinent to this blog, who these people "Sigrid and Kaldur" that Severax was so attached to.

I touched on them briefly in the accompanying blog, but I again didn't go into much detail beyond "DM added them as a hook for me, which worked as I became pretty attached to Kaldur, the young Dragonborn boy." But that... hardly does it justice. This chance meeting with a ten year old boy became a primary driving force for my character throughout the rest of the game. Despite that phrasing giving off some "it's a valid sexual orientation" vibes, it's true. The kid was so important that I actually commissioned a drawing with him. However, in order for you to truly appreciate it, I need to explain exactly why Severax became so attached to the boy. And in order to do that, I need to do what every fan fiction writer and D&D player loves doing more than anything: explain my character's backstory! if you want to skip the BS and just see the cute, scroll down. For everyone else, strap in, lads and lassies...

Our story begins at a lonely abbey situated near a deep valley. This abbey was loyal to the Tempest pantheon of gods, worshiping the likes of Zeus, Thor, Kord, and Talos. The Abbott of this place was a man named Father Tobias Rutledge. Despite being the Abbott, he was seen as... odd by most of his fellow clerics. He was quite different from his taciturn, imposing brethren; genial, kind, and usually seen with a quirky smile. Still, his faith and wisdom were unparalleled... and thus so was his spellcraft.

One day, a large commotion drew the attention of those in the abbey: a nomadic clan of dragonborn had made camp in the valley. This was stunning, as in this part of the world, dragonborn were so extremely rare that some regarded them as mere myth, the tall tales of drunkards and madmen. Unsure of their intentions, Father Rutledge observed them from a distance as they sparred, drank, laughed, and were generally loud and obnoxious for three days. Once they had finally moved on, he went down to survey the area. The clan had certainly left their mark on the land: discarded barrels of what certainly once held ale, dropped scraps of food, broken weapons and stains of blood on the ground. And then, hidden within a copse of trees... a large egg.

Father Rutledge could feel that the egg was still warm. It had to have been laid less than a day prior, and while it had been abandoned, it was almost lovingly cradled in a pile of leaves and grass, away from where it could be trampled... or seen. However, while warm, it was rapidly cooling. If left alone, the child inside wouldn't survive to another sunrise. Overtaken by compassion, and a healthy bit of curiosity, Tobias cradled the egg in his robe and brought it back to the abbey. The other clerics thought him crazy for taking in such an unknown creature, but he nevertheless placed the egg in his room and kept it warm with a worn blanket, enchanted with a slight charm to ensure it never cooled. Several months later, the egg began to shake and crack, and with a little help from Father Rutledge, soon emerged an infant dragonborn with brilliant bronze scales and icy blue eyes. Immediately taken with the child, he consulted an old book on the Draconic language and named the boy Severax, which roughly translated to, "Divine Gift."

Severax's childhood wasn't an easy one. Very early on, he was picked on and teased by the other children who studied at the abbey. Not just for looking different, but also because it became apparent within a few years that he was going to be a big lad. From the age of six onward, he towered over his peers and seemed to add muscle without really trying. Father Rutledge always taught him to be slow to anger, especially given his size and strength advantages... though he did eventually teach that the Storm brings life and destruction. After a twelve year old Severax "spoke back" to the lead bully, a boy named Torian Djura, the bullying pretty much died off, though the whispers, dirty looks, and exclusion endured.

However, it wasn't just the kids that scorned him. Most of the adult clerics made if very clear that he was... lesser than they, more a creature than a man. When he would complain about torment from the other boys, the adults turned him away, usually with some variant of "One must endure the Storm if they wish to serve it." Unbeknownst to him but knownst to us, the clerics had a few times pushed for his expulsion from the order. It was only the uncharacteristically firm words from Father Rutledge that kept him there.

Despite these hardships, Severax grew into a cheerful, humble young man, as strong in faith as he was in body. His happy-go-lucky smile and sometimes meek demeanor clashed with his 6'10, 400 lbs body, and he occasionally underestimated exactly how big he was. He left a dent on the tops of quite a few door frames, and many a flimsy chair or poorly built couch met their end at his hands... or rump. However, Severax truly met the definition of "gentle giant." He was kind, empathetic, and eager to please. Where other clerics would preach of their god's wrathful nature, demanding obedience to escape their fury, Severax instead preached God as a bringer of life, nourishing rain and favorable tides. While he still endured odd looks and occasional contempt from his now grown peers, Father Rutledge's presence gave him strength. Life wasn't easy for him, but it was... comfortable. Until just after his 25th birthday.

When Father Rutledge fell ill.

No healing spell can stop the march of time, and the man was in his late 90's at that point. He passed peacefully in his sleep, but the final words he said to Severax, frail hand clutching his claws, was to not be afraid, to always trust in God, keep being kind to his fellow man... and to find, "who you are meant to be, and where you belong." Severax lasted all of a week after his father's passing before he left the abbey. To those few who actually asked why he was leaving, he told them it was to find the dragonborn clan that had abandoned him. Inside, however, he set out looking for two simple things...

And for the next two years, Severax just... wandered. He drifted from town to town, preaching God's Word, healing the sick, and aiding those in need. Occasionally, he would take out some beast or creature that was terrorizing a village. This continued until one fateful day, when he received a letter from a desperate Burgomaster seeking help to protect his daughter Ireena from a malevolent vampire lord. So Severax traveled to a far off land where he met a disgraced paladin, a mysterious sorcerer... and a himbo bard.

The point of all of that bloated backstory was to impress upon you two things, the two things I told the DM when he asked what drove Severax, what his motivation in life was:

1. His entire life, despite the love of Father Rutledge, Severax has never felt like he truly belonged anywhere.

2. His entire life, the only dragonborn Severax has ever seen... was in the mirror.

And so our adventure through Barovia began (reminder that this was the Curse of Strahd Reloaded mod). For weeks (over a year IRL), we trekked through the cursed land, experiencing highs and lows. We helped overthrow the tyrannical Baron lording over Vallaki. We watched helplessly as the Priest at St. Andrel's cathedral was torn to shreds by one of Strahd's brides due to our inaction. Severax's faith was tested as he repeatedly failed to remove a curse from a young girl, only to finally hear her normal voice cry out for her mother. We met a few new friends, and a whole lot of enemies.

Eventually, we were told to travel south towards Tsolenka Pass, past which lay the deadly Amber Temple. We had previously heard rumors of a village in the pass named Yaedrag. We happened upon a destroyed campsite, apparently attacked by a demon of some kind. As we traveled past a frozen lake, Severax heard a frail voice on the wind, crying for help. We soon saw a tiny body half submerged in the ice. Severax ran out onto the ice to find a young boy.

A young dragonborn boy named Kaldur.

Knowing all this backstory, I hope you can see why Severax instantly latched on to the kid. It was literally that scene from The Office. "I've only known him for fifteen seconds, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in the room and then myself." This ten year old boy had just lost his parents, brutally and bloodily, right before his eyes. Once we warmed him up, he could still barely talk to us enough to tell us where Yaedrag was. Severax didn't let the boy get more than five feet from him the entire trip. However, that was why Severax became attached to the boy. There was a different, yet somewhat similar reason why I became attached. Free Internet Therapy inbound...

I've never outright said this, but I'm sure that over the years you've noticed that I really enjoy stories about fathers and brothers. To the point where I greatly prefer the over stories about mothers and sisters. Now before you start throwing "-ists" or "-phobes" at me, there is a very logical reason for this. My whole life, I have had a very good relationship with my mom and my sister. However, I have never had a very good relationship with my dad and my brother. I've said before that my brother and I fought, but that's a severe understatement. We hated each other for a good few years. During my freshman year of high school, when he was still at the same school, he would spread rumors about me, tell people embarrassing things I did at home, and was generally my lead tormentor. Now before you judge him too harshly, he was dealing with a lot of issues himself, antagonized by drug and alcohol abuse. He has since profusely apologized, and I have forgiven him. And my dad was... well, drunk. He wasn't physically abusive or anything, he just... wasn't there. I mean, he was home, but he was upstairs in his office drinking beer most nights.

I think you can now see why I love stories about characters with positive male role models: I never had one. That kind of thing is important for a young boy, and here, thought this fictional fucking character, I had the opportunity to be one. It really is a testament to our DM's amazing storytelling abilities that I got so invested... though he didn't make it easy all the time. After we arrived in Yaedrag, we found it to be a village of humans... and dragonborn. Man, Severax was walking around like a kid in a candy store, seeing so many of his kind just casually walking about. The village chief Sigrid—who was actually Kaldur's aunt, despite being human (iunno, quantum)—threw us a feast for taking out a demon that had been haunting them. While we were there—and Gamliel and Arrin took huge gulps of their very powerful liquor and promptly puked or passed out—Severax noticed Kaldur sitting by himself in the corner. I said I wanted to go check on him.

What followed was a nearly 45 minute conversation with me trying to offer comfort to the boy who had just seen his parents torn to shreds in front of him. And I swear to God that the DM was purposefully trying to thwart me, because every single time I would offer words of comfort, Kaldur would ask some question countering what I said. It was only through some very fortunate Persuasion rolls (my CHA was like 12) that I made it through. I obviously don't know this for fact, but one of the reasons I think this is because I am a Christian, and the DM, who is a very dear friend of mine, is an atheist. So I think under the table it kind of became a "Martin Luther vs Richard Dawkins" type of thing.

Anywho, it worked, and Kaldur became just as attached to Severax as he was with the boy. The other villagers also took to Severax, with his genial nature and useful magic. When the time came for our party to move on and continue our journey to defeat the Devil of Barovia, Kaldur launched himself at Severax, grabbing his leg in an iron grip and begging him not to leave. As both Severax and myself hhnnngggg'd, Severax knelt down to look the boy in the eye and said, "I give you my word, child. I will return." And from that point on, that was Severax's goal. I don't remember ever actually saying this to the party, but for the remaining 1/3 or more of the game, that was the prime motivation for Severax. Like, before this he wanted to defeat Strahd just because he was the BBEG and he was hurting people. Now, however, he wanted to ensure that Kaldur could grow up safe and happy, and that he kept his promise.

The game continued for about six months. On the session before we launched our "assault" on Castle Ravenloft, the DM asked us all about our desired "epilogues." If we prevailed, where did we want our characters to go? What did they want out of all this? I pondered for a bit, before I decided on what was the only reasonable thing Severax would do: he would return to Yaedrag and ask Chief Sigrid if he could stay. Not only because of his bond with Kaldur, but because Severax had felt something those two days that he never did growing up at the abbey. The two things that, deep down, he truly left the abbey to find. Two things that nearly every mortal has sought since the gods first raised the Earth.

A family... and a home.

As was stated in T.P.K., we did end up prevailing. Strahd was dead, the sun once more shined on Barovia, and the party disbanded. Severax returned to Yaedrag, and the moment when Severax arrived and Kaldur saw him and bounded over to him to embrace him was so goddang adorable. Severax asked Chief Sigrid if he could stay. He knew useful magic, he could heal, and was a decent tracker with a strong back. She of course said yes, and life went on. Though the best moment was about two weeks after that, when Severax used Divine Intervention to allow Kaldur a few moments to say goodbye to his parents.

From there, I imagine that Severax did for Kaldur what Father Rutledge had done for him, and took on a surrogate paternal role. I imagine him teaching Kaldur how to track and hunt. I imagine them on a hunting trip in the wilderness, sitting around a campfire. I imagine them bonding, telling stories and having fun. I imagine Severax conjuring up a miniature thunderstorm for Kaldur to marvel at. I imagine Kaldur staring in awe, and Severax looking down at him with paternal pride. I imagine...

It's not perfect, obviously. No art commission of this quality is ever perfect. But the artist delivered exactly what I requested... though Severax isn't as big as I told him to make him. He got the height, but Sev is supposed to be built like The Mountain from Game of Thrones. Hell, Severax is actually taller than him! I don't think I'll work with this artist again, because the WIP's he showed me came at points where any "major" changes would require a total redo. But Severax not being l o r g e enough is more than made up for by Kaldur being the most adorable goddang thing I've ever seen, with his wide eyes and floppy ears and cute lil' fangs and hhnnnngggggrioawdojhasdojhowud........................

*Ahem*

IF you made it this far, thank you for indulging me in infodumping a whole bunch of nonsense that means nothing to no one but me. Don't be surprised if you see more of this type of art in the future. Merely reminiscing to write this blog has made me think of moments from the actual game that I want to see realized. Who knows? I mean, I'll be getting my tax return here before too long...

Never forget that I fucking love you all. Til next time stay safe, stay free, and stay metal! Jake The Army Guy out!

Comments

[Wise Cracker]

The power of storytelling, man. Cute pic, nice story. Glad you found some positivity, even from fiction. Sometimes you have to conjure it up out of nothing, eh ?

I can see the remarks on the picture, though, it does have some "The Dragon Who Wasn't" vibes to it. The difference in ears also makes it trickier to recognise both as the same species, at least at first glance. But that's a nitpick at best, and dragonborn have no need for nitpickers, lacking hair to get lice on and all...

Edit:

one of the reasons I think this is because I am a Christian, and the DM, who is a very dear friend of mine, is an atheist. So I think under the table it kind of became a "Martin Luther vs Richard Dawkins" type of thing.

Try playing with actual heathens next time, if you can. See how long it takes before something offensive to their belief in magic pops up. It's really surprising how that particular sensitivity hasn't soaked into geek culture yet, lol.