Lady LeFay

I took one of NiGHTMARE's verison of Jaheria, and attempt to make her look more thiefy/rangery.

98% of it is done in Microsoft Paint, with small forlays into others to tint armor and blend in the feather & blonde lock.

See for yourself!

After looking at the feast of Goblyns module and scanning the books in an Uncle's store, this setting really intrigue me as possible ideals for a massive mod.

Is there good free resources to find more information on this Demiplane of Dread?

Janus Tinsel glowered as he tossed the shattered crossbow to the leaf-littered ground, then brushed a lock of ruddy hair behind a faintly pointed ear. This wasn't getting them anywhere -- and it was the third bloody time his band got ambushed while they were camping... unbelievable!

"Yo! How are you fellas holding up?" The Skald turned to his fellow adventurers, the brilliant malachite darkened with concern and then gave a soft, wistful sigh. They were lucky -- no one died in this skirmish... Dynaheir... Khalid -- The half-elf rudely pinched himself to keep from angsting over things that were beyond his control.

"I just removed all curses -- to be sure no one's infected by the Lycanthropic blight." Anomen nod faintly as he eyed the hacking Yoshimo with more then a touch of hestiation. "Have your wounds fester already?"

"No... gack!" The Kara-tur thief spat out a claw. "The wolf shoved it's paw in my mouth..." He started to induce himself to vomit to be rid of the retched taste of blood and fur.

"Oh... eeeeew!" Dante turned away, visibly cringing from the racking noise the bounty hunter made with each dry heave, as he brushed golden locks away from his soft azure eyes. "Anomen, Can you give some aid here? Nalia's wrist is broken!"

"Shouldn't a Paladin of your rank beable to give aid, 'Sir' Alsin?" The Helmite Warrior-Priest snorted faintly -- how... how could this boy be a full knight!? It was almost an outrage!

"I can't! I'm sorry... I can't, I've been trained entirely to slay the undead -- I haven't been taught the divine healing arts, Anomen!" The young Paladin called out apologeticly, with more then a faint hint of exasperation -- directed at himself.

"Unfortunately I used the last of my healing craft in battle!" Anomen snapped as he rubbed his temple. It was true, during the battle, Anomen and Aerie had to constantly halt their activity to attend to their comrades to prevent casualities among themselves.

"Oh Mystra...! Can we quit fighting and trying to patch up!" Janus sat down next to the Lathander-worshipper, as he attempted to wound a gauze about a bloody gash upon his unusually long hand; a finger pressed the end of it against the wound, as the half-elf attempted to wrap it around with the strip between his teeth -- but found it terribly awkward.

"And these gloves of hand-laying lost their power for today... If only there's some sort of shelter nearby!" Dante sighed as he took small twigs from the ground. "Anomen, can you hold Nalia's arm straight?" He turned from Priest to Mage. "I'm going to set your wrist into a splint until Anomen and Aerie can cast spells again so it won't get worse then it is now... Nalia, please bare with me... but this is going to hurt like a wasp's nest, okay?"

"Oh... okay." Nalia closed her eyes as she instinctively clenched her teeth as she felt the strong callous hands of the burnette held firm to her elbow and forearm, and the more slender, leather-clad ones of Dante upon her wrists... Anomen was really quite attractive in this light, she had to admit to herself. "AH! Yeow! That hurts Dante!" She yelped as tears sprang to her eyes as the dull pop fill the otherwise still air.

"Sorry... sorry, I'm really sorry, but I don't have anything to numb it...." The former farmer boy sighed sheepishly as the warrior-priest checked over the splint to be absolutely certain it was set correctly.

"Ahh.. dun apw--" The Bhaalspawn spat out the gauze after the nth failed attempt to tie it to his gash. "Don't apologeize so much, okay? It's not really your fault." Janus forced a chuckle as he look into the gentle azure eyes. "Hey!" He snapped his good fingers thoughtfully. "Who knows, that wolf that gotten away may turn into a Kara-Tur on the full moon!"

"I do not find that too amusing." The raven-hair thief growl darkly as he rejoined the fellowship. However -- judging from the faces of the half-elf, and the other humans, it was a thought too absurd to keep out of one's mind.

"Errhm..." The bearded Helmite coughed as he got up, finally suppressing a rare fit of laughter. "Excuse me... I'll check to make sure Aerie had woken up from her nap yet."

"Janus, let me help -- you're never going to bandage your hand that way!" The blonde male exclaimed as he yanked the white cloth from the bard's lap. "Hold out your hand... okay?"

Malachite eyes fluttered closed as he felt the warm, steady hand clasped onto his right wrist, then of the cool -- and faintly damp material twining up, and around the palm of his hand. then he slid them open faintly... to check the progress of the dressing. The soft, wavy locks of flaxen-hue framed the youthful face, the brows knit together into an expression of worry.

Moments like these... silent, unhurried, reveal an inner-tranquility of the youth... and yet, those eyes exhibited a sad maturity he had only seen in someone like Keldorn. By the way... were Keldorn, Jaheria, Minsc, Valygar, Haer'Dalis, Jan, and Kesley all right in Windspear? He can only hope.

Dante's breath caught in his throat as he tied off the gauzing. Janus had... nice hands, soft and agile... but there were faint callouses on the tips, and palms, how much of it was battle-born, and which ones came from the lyre that the half-elf was oft to took up in the few moments of solitude the bhaalspawn believed he had. The young man never quite realize that hands could be pretty... why was that?

The tanned digits wiggled partially from impatience as the lush eyes fully opened.

A faint hint of rose grew behind the splash of freckles on Dante's temple... for a moment their fingers laced together by the constant squirming of Janus' own.

"Ah, there's you go..." Dante quickly tore away, his palms suddenly calmy and wet under the leather gloves. "I... I'll go see if more help is needed.

The half-elf cocked his head in puzzlement as he stared at the dressed palm. "He had nice hands under those gloves." The redhead chuckled to himself... then nervously brush his own against his jerkin, eyes darting. Now where did THAT come from?


----

One-shot, shouen-ai-ish.

Cute blushing Dante for your pleasure.

Questions? Comments? It's welcomed.

I am trying to focus on Dante, but my mind came up with several interesting characters, and I am sure others probably did the same while busy with another mod, or unable to make one.

So how about just typing up a brief character sketch (or many!) here, there, to either get back to, or to have someone looking for a project pick it up, who knows?  


Well, any ways, here's a brief format:

Name: (if any)
Race:
Class: (Kit -- if new kit, describe)
Other info:


You don't have to follow it, but make it easy to read.  

Post Shadows of Amn, not focusing on the PC.
Coran?s Physical description is base on the Portrait of Coran being use for the BG1 NPC mod headed by Domi and co.
And Kivan?s on his default portrait.
Not sure if I would continue this anytime soon since I have my own MOD project I want to finish writing for.
Also tell me if any characterization is wrong.
Warnings: a bit of violence, low-level off-color humor, and whatever the heck may pop up in this--I'm giving the muse the reins.
~~~

The elf tensed as he padded along, each step carefully measured and taken in an intricate level that only a ranger of his age could achieve with only an unconscious thought. The string of the eagle bow grew more and more taut with each step, the keen eyes and sharper ears peered through the masses of knotted pine and cedars. The faint shots of light in the otherwise dank, murky forest, it made it far more haunting then it would be if it were only the darkness of the underbrush that surrounded his being.

?Yo there, old friend!? An airy chirp of a baritone shot out?piercing the dead silence.

With the elegant grace of his kin, Kivan turned on the balls of his feet, just centimeters away from letting the enchanted arrow fly from his fingers. Upon seeing the source of the aggravating cheerful call, the loner grind the molars of his teeth with an alarming intensity. Inch, by inch, the bow pointed away from the other elf?s head---and settled upon the crotch-level, just to keep him on the toes.

?Coran, you blasted idiot!? Kivan hissed as hunter-hued eyes smothered in the repressed urge to give the obnoxious womanizer a shot to the belt?or rather below it. ?Why in the nine hells are you doing here!??

?Oh just passing through, Kivan. What of you, then?? Coran leaned forward slightly as he flashed a smile at the surly elf. The smile wasn?t so cocky as the ranger had remembered. A light within it seemed to have been lost, even as those impossibly snow-colored teeth tried to force it out.  

?Hunting.? He snapped as he turned away from the Rogue, ignoring the eerie sensation of new kinship.

?By the gods, I swear you will hunt yourself to death! Haven?t you heard of a life, Kivan?? The brunette moon elf rolled his eyes. ?Tazok is dead, can?t you let it go??

?Shut up, you damn thief! You do not understand loss; you have never been in love?and you have never lost someone who is more then life!? The older elf snarled, punching every word with a bitter, wretched hatred?directed not at the unwitting young one---but at himself.

?Kivan?? Coran whispered, the false smile had vanished completely from his fair features, replaced by a foreign shadow of helpless sorrow. His lighter eyes focused onto the Ranger?s darker orbs. ?You are wrong? I do know now?.?