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Description
I've had this sitting in my stash for like a year now and decided I may as well share it.
It's pretty rough and sketchy, but this is one of my DnD characters. I spent forever working on her backstory and art, so why not actually upload it?
I have a few other characters that I might upload in future as they are fun to make!

Backstory

Aiskava was born in a clan that lived far from the cities of other races. Their town was small but prosperous and though many travellers of other races passed through, none were permitted to live in the town. The Vyshklt clan to which Aiskava was born were a celebrated lineage of gladiators. So from when she could first walk, Aiskava had begun her training to follow her family's destiny. At the age of 15, she became a full-fledged gladiator and spent the next 13 years in the service of her town’s leaders. Gladiators in her home were not merely entertainers, they were executioners. All those sentenced to death were instead sentenced to the pit to fight for their right to live. Few won the right to continue their lives.

Most gladiators had heirs to their names, Aiskava had none. Her parents had both died in the pit, as was the fate of their line of work, and though her gladiatorial prowess had earned her many suitors, she was numb to any type of feeling. For many years, all that drove the Dragonborn was simply her daily routine. Nothing more, nothing less.

After a decade of service, the officials threw a party for her, as was common to do for such a long-surviving gladiator. Though the party was nothing but a formality for Aiskava, she arrived as required, and left early. Though upon her exit she met a curious individual. A human traveller from a far off land sat beneath the trees on her way home and played an odd instrument she had not yet encountered. The sound was mournful and yet beautiful, it entranced the Dragonborn and she sat with the elderly man for many hours listening to him play. Over the course of the next few days, the two became friends and the traveller began to teach her his craft, even gifting her the flute she had first heard him play. For once there was more to her life than simply her daily routine, Aiskava found herself feeling excitement for when the human would travel through town next.

3 years after their meeting, fate took a cruel turn. A nobleman, wanting to garner more power by marrying his son off to the Vyshklt bloodline, took a disliking to the old human when his request at a union was denied. Seeing the man as the only obstacle in his way, he arranged for the traveller to be framed for the murder of one of his rival nobleman’s young. Though the frame job was poorly executed, it was the nobleman’s word against the old man’s and his fate was all but decided. As tradition would have it, the traveller was sentenced to the pit to fight for his life. What the nobleman had not anticipated was that the gladiator he would be fighting was Aiskava. Upon seeing her trusted friend before her as her adversary, Aiskava was struck by too many emotions to know what to do. All she had heard was that she was to fight a child murderer, but surely the kind old man was no such thing… Being fully armoured, her friend did not recognise her and fought her as best he could. The man was a musician and no warrior, his attacks were easy to block, though she never dealt one of her own.

The battle stretched from minutes to hours and the crowd grew frustrated as their gladiator continued to simply dodge and block blows. At some point during the ‘brawl’ guards arrived, having uncovered the truth behind the murder. Taking the opportunity of surprise the nobleman had dashed into the pit and impaled the old musician. Aiskava stared in shock at the scene before her, removing her helmet and dropping her weapons. She rushed to the old man’s side, sorrow clouding her thoughts as he whispered his last words. The old man’s eyes fluttered closed and though he had been innocent, their laws stated that with his life’s end, the crime was paid for. Aiskava would have stayed beside the old man, mourning him for hours had the voice from the noble behind her not wrenched her from her sorrow. She turned to look at the monster before her and her blood felt as if it were simultaneously boiling and freezing all at once. Cold air fell from her jaw as she growled at the vile creature, the nobleman realising the danger, took up the weapons she had discarded and wielded them against her. Fuelled by anger and hatred for the cruel noble Aiskava lunged at the man, dodging his attacks and grabbing him firmly before smashing him against the steep walls of the pit. The powerful emotions unlocked the dormant magic within Aiskava, the nobleman slowly becoming enveloped in ice as the years worth of restrained magic finally flowed out. Realising herself to be the cause of the strange phenomena, Aiskava pulled back and fetched her sword. She refused to show the nobleman a quick death and took her time in torturing the man.
The crowd was silent and not a single guard interrupted her revenge.

Aiskava left the ring that day with the old man’s body and made arrangements for him to be returned home and buried as he deserved. That night the town celebrated the defeat of the wicked nobleman, though none even cared for the innocent life that had been lost that day. None aside from Aiskava, who was not partaking in the feast, rather she was packing. She had always believed what she was doing was just and good, but after facing a man she had known to be innocent...she couldn’t help but wonder how many more of the countless lives she had taken, had been so as well?
After a few days, she had sold everything she no longer needed and she left the town for good. She planned to travel the world, playing her flute for all that would listen to its sorrowful melodies of regret and loss. She believed that the melodies one played reflected their soul and told its tale. Perhaps her melodies could find the hearts of those like her, who had yet to learn how to feel and perhaps it could save them before they blindly did evil’s work as she had.

About

Aiskava has a strong sense of justice and though she has left her past life behind, she refuses to let any evil deeds go unpunished, often dishing out punishment if she sees fit. Alerting the authorities is a waste of time, after all, her home’s laws were not without unjust ties, surely then all laws held corruption.

Aiskava is generally a very somber individual, a quiet and imposing figure who keeps to herself. Having noticed her race’s presence comes with a certain air of intimidation, Aiskava has resorted to wearing a black hooded cape to conceal her features, so as not to scare the humans in the towns she travels to. Her efforts have been in vain though as the massive frame of a cloaked figure of 6’ 10” has done little to ease the minds of townsfolk.

One of the few things that seem to break through the sombre shell of the dragon born is anyone attempting to take her treasured flute or even insulting the instrument or melodies she learnt from the old musician. Such transgressions usually result in Aiskava teaching the uncultured filth the strength of the tool of her trade, usually by beating them senseless with said tool.

Aside from the old musician, Aiskava has never had friends and thus has very poor people skills. She is not really interested in conversing with others, though she certainly does not mind the company of those who have proven their trustworthiness. Her trust is hard-won and even when it is, it may be hard to tell as the ever silent Dragonborn's lips remain almost as unmoving as before.
Aiskava and art belong to me

Description
I've had this sitting in my stash for like a year now and decided I may as well share it.
It's pretty rough and sketchy, but this is one of my DnD characters. I spent forever working on her backstory and art, so why not actually upload it?
I have a few other characters that I might upload in future as they are fun to make!

Backstory

Aiskava was born in a clan that lived far from the cities of other races. Their town was small but prosperous and though many travellers of other races passed through, none were permitted to live in the town. The Vyshklt clan to which Aiskava was born were a celebrated lineage of gladiators. So from when she could first walk, Aiskava had begun her training to follow her family's destiny. At the age of 15, she became a full-fledged gladiator and spent the next 13 years in the service of her town’s leaders. Gladiators in her home were not merely entertainers, they were executioners. All those sentenced to death were instead sentenced to the pit to fight for their right to live. Few won the right to continue their lives.

Most gladiators had heirs to their names, Aiskava had none. Her parents had both died in the pit, as was the fate of their line of work, and though her gladiatorial prowess had earned her many suitors, she was numb to any type of feeling. For many years, all that drove the Dragonborn was simply her daily routine. Nothing more, nothing less.

After a decade of service, the officials threw a party for her, as was common to do for such a long-surviving gladiator. Though the party was nothing but a formality for Aiskava, she arrived as required, and left early. Though upon her exit she met a curious individual. A human traveller from a far off land sat beneath the trees on her way home and played an odd instrument she had not yet encountered. The sound was mournful and yet beautiful, it entranced the Dragonborn and she sat with the elderly man for many hours listening to him play. Over the course of the next few days, the two became friends and the traveller began to teach her his craft, even gifting her the flute she had first heard him play. For once there was more to her life than simply her daily routine, Aiskava found herself feeling excitement for when the human would travel through town next.

3 years after their meeting, fate took a cruel turn. A nobleman, wanting to garner more power by marrying his son off to the Vyshklt bloodline, took a disliking to the old human when his request at a union was denied. Seeing the man as the only obstacle in his way, he arranged for the traveller to be framed for the murder of one of his rival nobleman’s young. Though the frame job was poorly executed, it was the nobleman’s word against the old man’s and his fate was all but decided. As tradition would have it, the traveller was sentenced to the pit to fight for his life. What the nobleman had not anticipated was that the gladiator he would be fighting was Aiskava. Upon seeing her trusted friend before her as her adversary, Aiskava was struck by too many emotions to know what to do. All she had heard was that she was to fight a child murderer, but surely the kind old man was no such thing… Being fully armoured, her friend did not recognise her and fought her as best he could. The man was a musician and no warrior, his attacks were easy to block, though she never dealt one of her own.

The battle stretched from minutes to hours and the crowd grew frustrated as their gladiator continued to simply dodge and block blows. At some point during the ‘brawl’ guards arrived, having uncovered the truth behind the murder. Taking the opportunity of surprise the nobleman had dashed into the pit and impaled the old musician. Aiskava stared in shock at the scene before her, removing her helmet and dropping her weapons. She rushed to the old man’s side, sorrow clouding her thoughts as he whispered his last words. The old man’s eyes fluttered closed and though he had been innocent, their laws stated that with his life’s end, the crime was paid for. Aiskava would have stayed beside the old man, mourning him for hours had the voice from the noble behind her not wrenched her from her sorrow. She turned to look at the monster before her and her blood felt as if it were simultaneously boiling and freezing all at once. Cold air fell from her jaw as she growled at the vile creature, the nobleman realising the danger, took up the weapons she had discarded and wielded them against her. Fuelled by anger and hatred for the cruel noble Aiskava lunged at the man, dodging his attacks and grabbing him firmly before smashing him against the steep walls of the pit. The powerful emotions unlocked the dormant magic within Aiskava, the nobleman slowly becoming enveloped in ice as the years worth of restrained magic finally flowed out. Realising herself to be the cause of the strange phenomena, Aiskava pulled back and fetched her sword. She refused to show the nobleman a quick death and took her time in torturing the man.
The crowd was silent and not a single guard interrupted her revenge.

Aiskava left the ring that day with the old man’s body and made arrangements for him to be returned home and buried as he deserved. That night the town celebrated the defeat of the wicked nobleman, though none even cared for the innocent life that had been lost that day. None aside from Aiskava, who was not partaking in the feast, rather she was packing. She had always believed what she was doing was just and good, but after facing a man she had known to be innocent...she couldn’t help but wonder how many more of the countless lives she had taken, had been so as well?
After a few days, she had sold everything she no longer needed and she left the town for good. She planned to travel the world, playing her flute for all that would listen to its sorrowful melodies of regret and loss. She believed that the melodies one played reflected their soul and told its tale. Perhaps her melodies could find the hearts of those like her, who had yet to learn how to feel and perhaps it could save them before they blindly did evil’s work as she had.

About

Aiskava has a strong sense of justice and though she has left her past life behind, she refuses to let any evil deeds go unpunished, often dishing out punishment if she sees fit. Alerting the authorities is a waste of time, after all, her home’s laws were not without unjust ties, surely then all laws held corruption.

Aiskava is generally a very somber individual, a quiet and imposing figure who keeps to herself. Having noticed her race’s presence comes with a certain air of intimidation, Aiskava has resorted to wearing a black hooded cape to conceal her features, so as not to scare the humans in the towns she travels to. Her efforts have been in vain though as the massive frame of a cloaked figure of 6’ 10” has done little to ease the minds of townsfolk.

One of the few things that seem to break through the sombre shell of the dragon born is anyone attempting to take her treasured flute or even insulting the instrument or melodies she learnt from the old musician. Such transgressions usually result in Aiskava teaching the uncultured filth the strength of the tool of her trade, usually by beating them senseless with said tool.

Aside from the old musician, Aiskava has never had friends and thus has very poor people skills. She is not really interested in conversing with others, though she certainly does not mind the company of those who have proven their trustworthiness. Her trust is hard-won and even when it is, it may be hard to tell as the ever silent Dragonborn's lips remain almost as unmoving as before.
Aiskava and art belong to me