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Description

“Take me down…

Six Underground…

The ground beneath your feet…

Laid out low, nothing to go

Nowhere a way to meet…

I've got a head full of drought, down here

So far off losing out,

‘Round here…

Overground…

Watch this space!

I'm open… to falling from grace…!

Calm me down, bring it round

To way high off your street…

I can see like nothing else

In me, you're better than I wanna be…

Don't think 'cause I understand… I care!

Don't think 'cause I'm talking… we're friends!

Overground…

Watch this space!

I'm open… to falling from grace…!”

Sneaker Pimps, ‘Six Underground’

Another beautiful commission by . This group of adventuresses is an odd racial mix, and Amberly really rose to the occasion to tackle them. I think the results are exquisite, my favourite set so far! All so very beautiful…!

Meet Nyx Batbiter, goblin Star Pact Binder. Have you seen her Yellow Sign?

How desperate would anyone have to be to daub the signs of the Elder Evils across your body? As desperate as a small goblin lost in the Feydark, alone and frightened? There are lots of things that lurk in the caverns beneath the Feywild, and all of those things are stronger and nastier than goblins. Most of them wouldn’t even consider a mere goblin anything more than a quick snack.

So when Nyx found herself exiled from Nachtur, and separated from her shamanic mentor, she found herself turning for help towards the one thing he had warned her about… the Forbidden Tome. But he wasn’t around to look after her any more, was he? And her training as a shaman had barely begun. It was a quick course in forbidden lore or end up as a brief snack for a Cave Fisher or something worse.

Fortunately, Nyx swiftly discovered what most warlock-class casters find out early; their magick is easy. Those willing to pay the price can command considerable powers straight away, and so before you could say: ‘Hastur! Hastur! Hastur!’ the little goblin found herself hurling curses and eldritch blasts with the best of them. The trip to the surface world was fraught with peril, but she now had weapons to fight off those who considered her a particularly-succulent morsel.

It had not been an easy life. Goblin women are, to put it mildly, not attractive. Goblin mating rituals rely greatly on knockout drugs or the males being whacked with a wooden cudgel. But Nyx was cute. Not cute for a goblin – really, really cute, by any standards. The other goblin hags were extremely jealous in the way that the males salivated over her, stating behind her back that her mother must have been rogered by an incubus or something equally unpleasant-yet-attractive.

Nyx soon learned that she wanted nothing to do with other goblins, as mates or otherwise, disgusted by their petty cruelties and constant squabbling. She was fortunate – the shaman, who dwelled on the fringes of the Murkendraw and the Borderlands, recognised her potential, and took her under his wing. He had waited a long time for one of his kind to rise above tribal viciousness and inbred stupidity, and took the little imp under his wing, teaching her the ways of the Feywild. She adored her mentor, though he was elderly and often cantankerous, and longed to experience the power he spoke of in hushed whispers. Unfortunately, when bands of adventurers all but wiped out the tribe, the old shaman washed his hands of the whole sorry lot of them, and set off with his untried pupil towards the surface lands.

But they were parted, and Nyx had to dig deep into his tome of eldritch lore to even survive. But survive she did, and even found the rituals fulfilling. The ‘Elder Evils’ were not like men or goblins – they were ancient, timeless, utterly alien and barely intelligent even by goblin standards. And anyone with the right rituals could tap their power for very little in return. They did not want servitude, or worship, and likely barely understood these concepts, dreaming endlessly in the dark void between the stars. Nyx had never seen the stars, of course, but she made seeing the night sky a priority when she finally reached the surface.

She was found by a band of Tuathan scouts, human tribesmen who didn’t have the heart to kill a lone female, and who grew swiftly uncomfortable at the feelings this goblin stirred in them. Deciding she must be an enchanted human or even a fairy, they took her back to their village and allowed her to stay with them. That night, she discovered pleasures of which she had only dreamed about - the enjoyment that could be found in the arms of virile, handsome, human men. Sure, they were twice her size, but Nyx was nothing if not up for a challenge. When the humans got their heads around the fact she was a goblin, for Culuchuainn’s sake! and covered in forbidden marks - they were happy to teach her their ways and look after her. Young men vied for her bedroom time, and she had an exciting new world to explore.

“...'and down, down, to Goblin Town, you go, my lad!'   Actually, no. Let’s not go to Goblin Town. Goblin Town sucks. Trust me on that one, okay?”

While she was never going to be a warrior, her mystical powers proved handy in a fight, and she helped out in her share of tribal battles against hags, spriggans, ogres and all kinds of dangerous creatures. She came to the attention of an adventuring company, and the men of the village in particular were sorry to see her go. Nyx has found the adventuring trade very much to her liking; she gets to zap lots of horrible monsters, and meets lots of handsome guys. The pay is great and once they get over her race, even the humans see her as a hero and let her stay among them.

“The name? Oh yeah, that was my grand-dad. He was an entertainer for the tribe. He sang really loudly, and really badly. But those idiots loved him. One evening, someone threw a bat on stage. He thought it was dead, y’know, a shamanic token or something… They were both pretty surprised when he bit it… And the name stuck. Poor grand-dad. He went off his head on mind-bending mushrooms in the end…”

As a companion, Nyx is well-liked as an upbeat, up-for-anything party girl - cheerful, and with a love of dirty jokes and earthy humour. She is skilled at using her good looks to her own advantage – especially because they surprise almost everyone – though she is not really manipulative or selfish. She loves handsome guys and the pleasures of the flesh, as well as good food and ale, something goblins sorely lack. She is drawn to the darker and earthier forms of magic, and her successes in this field tend to make her a bit over-confident when dabbling with dark powers. She likes to tease her fellows and her lovers, and confound their expectations:

“Me? Pretty? Ooh, no. In fact, all the other girls in my tribe considered me really plain…  They were all much prettier than me! Want me to set you up on a date?”

She feels largely indifferent to other goblins, neither filled with a desire for revenge or any particular unwillingness to kill them if they get in the way. The surface world is her home now, and she will gladly fight for it. Likewise, she is happy to fight against the Far Realm – bizarrely, her unknowable patrons don’t seem to care how she uses the mind-bending powers they grant her, providing she performs the rituals. She argues with Makaria, the Bael’Turathi hexblade, quite a bit over this:

“They don’t expect, or even understand, worship, you know. I’d sooner deal with insane, nihilistic alien things who don’t give a crap about me, than a bunch of devils who are actively trying to get me to mortgage my soul to them…”

Nyx does miss her mentor, and sometimes feels guilty that she has not searched for him more actively, with all the fun she’s having in the upside world. She tries to keep an ear to the ground as to his fate, but thus far, she has heard nothing. She secretly fears he didn’t make it, but consoles herself with the thought that a goblin with in human lands would likely keep a low profile… unless that goblin had killer curves, bulging breasts and the sexual appetite of a faey-rabbit in mating season.

Her latest boyfriend has caused more than a bit of a stir… He is Barathaur Goldhelm, the dwarvish leader of the Company of Greys mercenary band, and an ancestral enemy of her people. She was astonished to find that he had goblin comrades, even friends, and didn’t seem at all concerned at her race. They became friends, then regular lovers, a fact which caused absolute conniptions back in the delves and thaigs of his people. For his part, Barathaur is dismissive of their conservatism:

“Heh, the Shaperate needs to get over itself. We need to judge others for what they are, not what’s in their blood. The Thunder Blessing is a sign; let’s not squander this second chance by getting mired in ancient feuds. And anyway, I’m not dating a bloody race! I’m dating a girl – one who happens to be very funny, and very sexy. And if the Thains don’t like that, they can ishkh khakfe andu null…!”

Many of the elders have pressured to have Goldhelm disbarred from the warrior caste for his heresy, but wiser heads have prevailed, calling for calm and noting the bravery with which he has served his people, and the gains the dwarves have made by his hand. If one of their finest sons must cavort with goblins, be brother and tutor to men and even orcs, and friends with elves, then they will allow him his eccentricities as long as he serves them well.

Nyx herself is unbothered by the furore – she has adventured with many of the Greys before and understands their creed of judging a man by his worth rather than what is in his blood.

“Oh, this? This wand is called the ‘Scythe of Doom’. It has really cool curses and stuff! It’s made from the thigh-bone of an orc chief who thought I’d make a nice concubine. He was dishy, too. A crying shame – if he’d asked nicely, I’d probably have said ‘yes’!”

Nyx Batbiter: Goblin Star Pact Binder

Alignment: Neutral/Unaligned

Concept: Sex Bomb

Str 10, Int 18, Wis 17, Dex 17, Con 14, Chr 18

Description

“Take me down…

Six Underground…

The ground beneath your feet…

Laid out low, nothing to go

Nowhere a way to meet…

I've got a head full of drought, down here

So far off losing out,

‘Round here…

Overground…

Watch this space!

I'm open… to falling from grace…!

Calm me down, bring it round

To way high off your street…

I can see like nothing else

In me, you're better than I wanna be…

Don't think 'cause I understand… I care!

Don't think 'cause I'm talking… we're friends!

Overground…

Watch this space!

I'm open… to falling from grace…!”

Sneaker Pimps, ‘Six Underground’

Another beautiful commission by . This group of adventuresses is an odd racial mix, and Amberly really rose to the occasion to tackle them. I think the results are exquisite, my favourite set so far! All so very beautiful…!

Meet Nyx Batbiter, goblin Star Pact Binder. Have you seen her Yellow Sign?

How desperate would anyone have to be to daub the signs of the Elder Evils across your body? As desperate as a small goblin lost in the Feydark, alone and frightened? There are lots of things that lurk in the caverns beneath the Feywild, and all of those things are stronger and nastier than goblins. Most of them wouldn’t even consider a mere goblin anything more than a quick snack.

So when Nyx found herself exiled from Nachtur, and separated from her shamanic mentor, she found herself turning for help towards the one thing he had warned her about… the Forbidden Tome. But he wasn’t around to look after her any more, was he? And her training as a shaman had barely begun. It was a quick course in forbidden lore or end up as a brief snack for a Cave Fisher or something worse.

Fortunately, Nyx swiftly discovered what most warlock-class casters find out early; their magick is easy. Those willing to pay the price can command considerable powers straight away, and so before you could say: ‘Hastur! Hastur! Hastur!’ the little goblin found herself hurling curses and eldritch blasts with the best of them. The trip to the surface world was fraught with peril, but she now had weapons to fight off those who considered her a particularly-succulent morsel.

It had not been an easy life. Goblin women are, to put it mildly, not attractive. Goblin mating rituals rely greatly on knockout drugs or the males being whacked with a wooden cudgel. But Nyx was cute. Not cute for a goblin – really, really cute, by any standards. The other goblin hags were extremely jealous in the way that the males salivated over her, stating behind her back that her mother must have been rogered by an incubus or something equally unpleasant-yet-attractive.

Nyx soon learned that she wanted nothing to do with other goblins, as mates or otherwise, disgusted by their petty cruelties and constant squabbling. She was fortunate – the shaman, who dwelled on the fringes of the Murkendraw and the Borderlands, recognised her potential, and took her under his wing. He had waited a long time for one of his kind to rise above tribal viciousness and inbred stupidity, and took the little imp under his wing, teaching her the ways of the Feywild. She adored her mentor, though he was elderly and often cantankerous, and longed to experience the power he spoke of in hushed whispers. Unfortunately, when bands of adventurers all but wiped out the tribe, the old shaman washed his hands of the whole sorry lot of them, and set off with his untried pupil towards the surface lands.

But they were parted, and Nyx had to dig deep into his tome of eldritch lore to even survive. But survive she did, and even found the rituals fulfilling. The ‘Elder Evils’ were not like men or goblins – they were ancient, timeless, utterly alien and barely intelligent even by goblin standards. And anyone with the right rituals could tap their power for very little in return. They did not want servitude, or worship, and likely barely understood these concepts, dreaming endlessly in the dark void between the stars. Nyx had never seen the stars, of course, but she made seeing the night sky a priority when she finally reached the surface.

She was found by a band of Tuathan scouts, human tribesmen who didn’t have the heart to kill a lone female, and who grew swiftly uncomfortable at the feelings this goblin stirred in them. Deciding she must be an enchanted human or even a fairy, they took her back to their village and allowed her to stay with them. That night, she discovered pleasures of which she had only dreamed about - the enjoyment that could be found in the arms of virile, handsome, human men. Sure, they were twice her size, but Nyx was nothing if not up for a challenge. When the humans got their heads around the fact she was a goblin, for Culuchuainn’s sake! and covered in forbidden marks - they were happy to teach her their ways and look after her. Young men vied for her bedroom time, and she had an exciting new world to explore.

“...'and down, down, to Goblin Town, you go, my lad!'   Actually, no. Let’s not go to Goblin Town. Goblin Town sucks. Trust me on that one, okay?”

While she was never going to be a warrior, her mystical powers proved handy in a fight, and she helped out in her share of tribal battles against hags, spriggans, ogres and all kinds of dangerous creatures. She came to the attention of an adventuring company, and the men of the village in particular were sorry to see her go. Nyx has found the adventuring trade very much to her liking; she gets to zap lots of horrible monsters, and meets lots of handsome guys. The pay is great and once they get over her race, even the humans see her as a hero and let her stay among them.

“The name? Oh yeah, that was my grand-dad. He was an entertainer for the tribe. He sang really loudly, and really badly. But those idiots loved him. One evening, someone threw a bat on stage. He thought it was dead, y’know, a shamanic token or something… They were both pretty surprised when he bit it… And the name stuck. Poor grand-dad. He went off his head on mind-bending mushrooms in the end…”

As a companion, Nyx is well-liked as an upbeat, up-for-anything party girl - cheerful, and with a love of dirty jokes and earthy humour. She is skilled at using her good looks to her own advantage – especially because they surprise almost everyone – though she is not really manipulative or selfish. She loves handsome guys and the pleasures of the flesh, as well as good food and ale, something goblins sorely lack. She is drawn to the darker and earthier forms of magic, and her successes in this field tend to make her a bit over-confident when dabbling with dark powers. She likes to tease her fellows and her lovers, and confound their expectations:

“Me? Pretty? Ooh, no. In fact, all the other girls in my tribe considered me really plain…  They were all much prettier than me! Want me to set you up on a date?”

She feels largely indifferent to other goblins, neither filled with a desire for revenge or any particular unwillingness to kill them if they get in the way. The surface world is her home now, and she will gladly fight for it. Likewise, she is happy to fight against the Far Realm – bizarrely, her unknowable patrons don’t seem to care how she uses the mind-bending powers they grant her, providing she performs the rituals. She argues with Makaria, the Bael’Turathi hexblade, quite a bit over this:

“They don’t expect, or even understand, worship, you know. I’d sooner deal with insane, nihilistic alien things who don’t give a crap about me, than a bunch of devils who are actively trying to get me to mortgage my soul to them…”

Nyx does miss her mentor, and sometimes feels guilty that she has not searched for him more actively, with all the fun she’s having in the upside world. She tries to keep an ear to the ground as to his fate, but thus far, she has heard nothing. She secretly fears he didn’t make it, but consoles herself with the thought that a goblin with in human lands would likely keep a low profile… unless that goblin had killer curves, bulging breasts and the sexual appetite of a faey-rabbit in mating season.

Her latest boyfriend has caused more than a bit of a stir… He is Barathaur Goldhelm, the dwarvish leader of the Company of Greys mercenary band, and an ancestral enemy of her people. She was astonished to find that he had goblin comrades, even friends, and didn’t seem at all concerned at her race. They became friends, then regular lovers, a fact which caused absolute conniptions back in the delves and thaigs of his people. For his part, Barathaur is dismissive of their conservatism:

“Heh, the Shaperate needs to get over itself. We need to judge others for what they are, not what’s in their blood. The Thunder Blessing is a sign; let’s not squander this second chance by getting mired in ancient feuds. And anyway, I’m not dating a bloody race! I’m dating a girl – one who happens to be very funny, and very sexy. And if the Thains don’t like that, they can ishkh khakfe andu null…!”

Many of the elders have pressured to have Goldhelm disbarred from the warrior caste for his heresy, but wiser heads have prevailed, calling for calm and noting the bravery with which he has served his people, and the gains the dwarves have made by his hand. If one of their finest sons must cavort with goblins, be brother and tutor to men and even orcs, and friends with elves, then they will allow him his eccentricities as long as he serves them well.

Nyx herself is unbothered by the furore – she has adventured with many of the Greys before and understands their creed of judging a man by his worth rather than what is in his blood.

“Oh, this? This wand is called the ‘Scythe of Doom’. It has really cool curses and stuff! It’s made from the thigh-bone of an orc chief who thought I’d make a nice concubine. He was dishy, too. A crying shame – if he’d asked nicely, I’d probably have said ‘yes’!”

Nyx Batbiter: Goblin Star Pact Binder

Alignment: Neutral/Unaligned

Concept: Sex Bomb

Str 10, Int 18, Wis 17, Dex 17, Con 14, Chr 18