[ ART ] October Patreon Reward

This month’s reward is a Rogue Trader original character!



[ ART ] Adventures in Mini Painting

darksword-easley-bardI occasionally enjoy painting miniatures for my various Dungeons & Dragons characters.  It is, at best, a side-line hobby so far, though I’m becoming more and more invested as I buy more paint, brushes, and equipment.

I learned this week, however, that miniatures that require lots of piecing together are things that will, inevitably, frustrate me.  With my Rheumatoid Arthritis, I don’t have the same digital mobility that I used to.  Things that require very fine or deft motor skill are oftentimes beyond me because it either hurts my hands or they shake too much to be useful.  This particular miniature is a beautiful one from Darksword Minatures and their Easley Masterworks collection. I thought it would make a lovely miniature for my current Aasimar Bard (at least until I get in the new Heroforge Miniature I just ordered…)

Believe it or not, this miniature comes in three separate parts.  It doesn’t say that anywhere on the packaging or on the website to order.  Her right arm with the lute is one piece, her main body on the rock is another, then her left boot is the third.  My husband and I both tried to get the lute arm to line up correctly, but it was really a choice of whether we wanted her right arm to line up or whether we wanted her left hand to line up, we could never achieve both.  Her left boot was a tiny, hard to deal with space when you’re trying to hold something together with glue.  I ended up just kind of wedging it in there and hoping it stuck.

I probably should have assumed off the bat that this was the kind of miniature meant for “advanced painters” but it was so lovely that I couldn’t resist.  I learned my lesson about researching miniatures fully before buying.  Still, while the miniature isn’t as picture perfect as I would have hoped, I think I still managed something nice.

[ ART ] Tiagra Half-Elven

A very, very old Dungeons & Dragons character of mine, inspired in part by Redlance and Joyleaf, from Wendy and Richard Pini’s ElfQuest, as well as Tanis Half-Elven from Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman’s Dragonlance Saga.

Tiagra (pronounced TEE-ay-grah) was my very first character and one of my most beloved. Maybe someday I’ll play her again in 5E.


“We’ve all been laughed at one time in our lives. We’ve all been jealous of a sibling. We have felt pain and suffered, just as he has suffered. And we’ve all longed—just once—for the power to crush our enemies! We pity him. We hate him. We fear him—all because there is a little of him in each of us, though we admit it to ourselves only in the darkest part of the night.”

“Time of the Twins: Legends, Volume One (Dragonlance Legends Book 1)” by Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman

Start reading this book for free: http://amzn.to/2ilO3nj

Hour One

You wake up.  As your mind slowly releases the fog of slumber, you become dimly aware of things: numbness in your legs, your shoulders, the lower part of your back.  The more wakeful you become the more that numbness converts to pain.  You transition into full awareness, staring up at the ceiling as you mentally prepare yourself for the full onslaught of sensation you know is coming.  You tally the things you need or want to do for the day, wondering which ones you’ll get done, which ones will be worth “pushing through the pain.”  You momentarily question if life is even worth living like this…

You sit up. Pain surges through your joints and your spine, renewing its hated relationship with you for another day. You fight back the tears of pain and frustration. You fight against the desire to fall back into bed, curl up in your warm blanket, and pretend that the world doesn’t exist.  Your will is iron and you force yourself past the pain and anxiety, knowing this will be only the first of so many struggles today.

You cling to the nearby furniture, using it as leverage to get to your feet.  The pain is excruciating, you draw a deep breath and courage from somewhere deep inside.  The first step, your knee nearly buckles and you stagger, praying to whatever power might be listening that you don’t fall.  Fear grips you for those uncertain seconds, but it passes and you carry onward.  It’s a hobbling, panicked race to the bathroom, pee or pain, who will win?

You make it, barely. Relief wars with frustration. You don’t feel like you’re living an adult life anymore. You’re dependent on things and other people to remotely come close to some pale semblance of normal.  More gripping of the furniture as you make your way back across the room.  For a moment, you debate a bath, but you can’t get into or out of the tub without help. You don’t want to wake up your spouse, so you forego it nobly in order to not be a nuisance.

The journey across the room is a haze of pain-induced waddling. What takes normal people seconds, takes you minutes. Until, at last, you flop gracelessly onto the couch in the living room with a grimace.

This is just the first hour of your day.  How many more are there to go?