October 2023 Sketches

This month was Dealer's Choice for our bonus sketches, and since we've gotten a few questions about our D&D games that usually center around muscle growth and fat furs, we drew up two of our favorite NPC's- the gluttonous and spoiled aristocrat, Nadharr Ketturr, and the powerful and heroic Ignatius. Enjoy, and thanks for your support!

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"Mmm, where are those peach tarts I ordered so very long ago? You, footman, where is my food? Can't you see I'm wasting away, here?" Lord Nadharr Ketturr demanded. A Gold Lord of Lyr Morrab, Nadharr Ketturr had never known a want or appetite unfulfilled in his life, and it certainly did show. The kardon race to which he belonged was known for their size and strength, their beastly and animalistic features, and Nadharr certainly had all but one of those characteristics in spades. Large beyond reason and paired with a luscious mane, proud, curving horns, and fangs that could— and did— tear through any meat put in front of him, Nadharr did not cut the figure of a proud soldier of the Concord that his people so revered; instead, Nadharr was an immense, blubbery orb of opulence and gluttony.

His fine clothes were made of yards of silks and velvet, stitched together to somehow encapsulate the circumference of his immense cauldron of a belly, so large it nearly sank to the floor. His limbs were swathed in thick reams of fat, his arms wobbling as he reached for another morsel and thighs thick around as barrels. Even his tail had become obscenely fat, a useless lump slumped on the floor and dragging him down— perhaps there was a metaphor in there, somewhere.

No, Nadharr had no strength to fall back on, but he was used to getting what he wanted. And if he could find the right adventurers to help him, he could want quite a bit.

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Ignatius loved being a Dyanmis Mage. His order had created some of the most impressive specimens and greatest heroes for the past centuries, and he was confident he would stand among that worthy company one day. The Dynamis Order had created a novel way of channeling magic, turning their own bodies into conduits of arcane energy, instead of relying on wands or staffs. The general philosophy of the order was simple; the stronger the body, the more powerful the magic produced, and thus, the training of a Dynamis Mage could turn a scrawny ram from the back alleys of Vitorus into Ignatius as he was today— with the body of a god.

The ram was a chiseled masterpiece of musculature, a mountain of brawn all on his own. His sprawling shoulders and thick bullneck were a mountainous landscape, framing shifting tectonic plates of back muscle and tapering into lovingly sculpted arms with biceps larger than his head and horns and triceps like anvils. His chest was broad and monumental as a canyon, and the sculpted pillars that were his legs were holding all of it up in spectacular fashion.

Ignatius curled his magnificent arm, his bicep rising up like a tide overfilling a riverbank. The leather straps holding his equipment together as it clung to his hulking body creaked, and then he let the flex go, his muscles relaxing as a burst of magic erupted out of his fingertips. He grinned toothily, looking out to the crowd that had gathered. "Now, who's ready for a show?"