Lady Elaianna Stalsworth Duchess of Stormhollow Proprietor of the Anchor Trading Company

Art by Same van Rijn

Commission for the lovely couple @elaianna and @thomasstalsworth! It was a pleasure working with you! <3 

┐(●’v’)┌ Character belongs too @elaianna​

Look at her! She drew my baby perfectly! Thank you!

Astarion x Tav YCH REDUCED PRICE - $35 Astarion's Tent Background INCLUDED

Can change Tav race to a tall humanoid race (sorry dwarves and gnomes D : ).

Tav can be nude or wearing clothing (no extra charge for clothing). Bite mark/blood can be added.

What you see is a rough sketch. What you'll get: a fully inked/coloured/shaded piece.

My process: I draw the rough sketch and send to your for approval/tweak as needed, with approval I ink it then send to your for approval, with approval I will add flat colours, and once more with approval I will shade/complete. You have input every step of the way!

I am only doing ONE version of this YCH. Once it's sold it's sold.

DM or Email at thelinnabear@gmail.com

This is only available for a few more hours.

Fishing Boats 17th and 18th Centuries in: The Picture Gallery of Canadian History Volume 1, p.100, by Jefferys, Charles W. 1942

Barque/ Bark Europa in Antarctica

Source

Morning and Evening, by William Adolphus Knell (1802 - 1875)

Opening a couple slots now that I'm all moved in

Portrait

Flat - 10USD | Shading- 13USD

Half Body

Flat - 15USD | Shaded - 20USD

Full Body

Flat - 25USD | Shaded 35USD

Additional Characters +50%USD

Additional Charges for heavy detail work

DM or Email at thelinnabear@gmail.com

Mystic Seaport Museum on Facebook

A Story of the Light

Two people sat by the embers of a dying fire, watched by a canopy of stars overhead and the thick of the forest around them; their comrades and superiors safely nestled in their alpine beds to stave off the cold, or at least they were elsewhere, involved in their own solitude and the solitude of the great winter that coursed through Grizzly Hills.

One of the figures by the fire was leaned back against a felled log, auburn hair falling over his shoulders like a curtain. The other sitting on top of it beside him was wrapped in a litany of padded cloth and furs, strands of her own dull, ashy hair sticking out from beneath a dark hood. The book in her hands had seen better days, likely years ago, its woven cover still singed with fire and stained with blood. Most of the pages were still intact, which is the only reason she kept it at all.

Her voice was harsh and bland like dead leaves and almost bored, as if she’d read through it many times before and the very act made her weary.

“…when the people there began to mark the doors of their neighbours and seal them inside, and listen to their wailing until they were silent, and furthermore to hear them rise from their beds not in health but in hunger, and to claw at the wood and windows in search of the living, which they now coveted above all else.

Keep reading

Homecoming

Art: Scottish Highlands, Georg Ireland, 2017

“Sir Thommis?”

The voice of the page barely carried down the long hall to the bench where the knight sat. A slow, expectant raising of the head was his reply, accompanied by the stare of green eyes unkind.

“The minister will see you now, m’lord,” the boy said, cautiously eyeing the ruffled linen shirt and naked saber strapped to his side. 

“That the minister or the junior minister?”

The page stared at him for a bit before answering. 

“I’m s’posed to call him minister.”

So it’s the clerk, not the king’s man.

Thommis nodded. 

“Bein’ courteous is bein’ smart, most of the time,” the knight said, rising slowly to his feet. 

The page took a few steps back down the hall before turning and looking back, curiously.

“Are you sayin’ I’m smart, m’lord?”

“More a question for time than for me,” Thommis said, his voice smooth and slow. “Reckon you’ve a chance.”

–

The clerk did not seem to notice Thommis at first, perched behind a desk piled high with papers amidst pools of spilt ink. His spectacled eyes moved from one side of the desk to the other and back and then suddenly to the tired green ones that had just come into view.

“Your lordship,” he said, as fast as he could manage. “Please. Have a seat.”

Thommis did, to some discomfort and dismay as cushion beneath gave way to wood. He could feel the frame shifting with the tremble of unsteady legs beneath.

“The ministry has reviewed your claim, Lord Thommis,” the clerk began, with words dry and rehearsed. “It is a claim we recognize and respect. However,”

He paused, waiting to see if the expression on the knight’s face changed.

It did not.

“Deed and title for these lands have already been given, in Lord Trollbane’s name, to the League of Arathor. It is with our deep regret that we cannot…”

The slight narrowing of the knight’s eyes caused the clerk to halt.

He cleared his throat.

“The regency is prepared to offer you fair, adequate compensation,” the clerk continued, quickly unfurling a scroll and placing it flat on the table, leaning forward to delicately push it in the knight’s direction.

Thommis leaned forward too, reaching out a hand to prevent it from crossing the center seam.

“Something important you need to understand,” Thommis said, waiting for a moment before slowly lifting his palm.

“I’m not here for charity, for ‘fair compensation’. I’m here as a courtesy, and it doesn’t seem that courtesy has been done right by.”

“Lord Thommis, I assure you…”

The knight held up his hand.

“Understand, minister—I’ve the right and the means to take what belongs to me and mine. The only questions left are the when and how.”

“The discourtesy done to me, done by you and your minister…” he continued, with a rising intonation. “That’ll be someone else’s disfortune by consequence. The people who think my father’s bones can be ground into a southerner’s gold, they’ll be put on the road they came from, or they’ll be put to the sword.”

Thommis paused long enough for the weight of his words to settle. The junior minister sat silent, shrinking further into the upholstery’s fraying fabric.

“Now I’ve been called a generous and peaceable man,” Thommis said. “I will let that future wait, for a sunrise. A courtesy. I’ll give you and your minister the time to think about what’s ‘fair’ and ‘adequate’. And we’ll have another conversation about understandings and futures.”

Thommis placed his hands on the armrests and rose to his feet.

“And then I’ll be riding home.”

A 19k pendant in form of a four mast galleon, ornamented with polychrome enamel and pearls, South Italy, c. 1700-25

Commission Sale

Portrait: $15USD

Half body: $25USD

Full body: $40USD

Will do couples, nsfw, different fandoms. No anthros or minors in nsfw. First two are guaranteed completion by July 25.

Tropes and Aesthetic: Water is Womanly

This is only our second sighting of a reused item from the silent era - the other being a costume from the 1922 Lorna Doone.

Into the storm. Another sea labradorite.

Christian Dior couture fall/winter 2005-2006