Oh, and I’ve got another one for you. You could probably see him on other art blogs of some Russian artists. His name is Nightingale (Solovey) or Arthur, and he’s from “Exlibrium” comic series, quite popular here in Russia. Some crappy light again. Ah, and I used gouache.
I have my own story about how my Inquisitor, Aran Lavellan, got his valasslin. Read more below. Drama alert.
“Does it hurt?”
Aran’s eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as he stares at fresh ink on Warthan’s face. The hunter looks at the boy thoughtfully and stops polishing his sword. He touches the markings on his face and smiles.
“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”
Aran doesn’t really understand what he means. By his looks, the boy would say that he would rather kept his face clean. Aran thinks that he would suffer any pain in order to get his markings. He imagines himself grown-up, strong and tall, with an iron-bark bow in his hands and bravery in his stare. He sees the mark of Dirthamen on his face. Or Sylaise, maybe. He falls asleep and wakes up with this dream. And in few years, the day comes.
Warthan doesn’t change even after the Blight. He survives the war and as the clan moves to Free Marches, he and few more clan members become heroes. Warthan never speaks of the Blight. He smiles like before, being cheerful and caring for Aran, but every time the boy asks him of the war, the hunter frowns and changes the topic. Aran wants to know. His curiosity has no measures and he is eager to face and to feel everything his superior felt. He doesn’t understand why would anyone avoid experience. He grows up fearless, curious and restless. He becomes skilled with both bow and daggers. Warthan guides and trains him at his best and they often go hunting or to human settlements together. Aran uses any possibility to wander away from the clan and see the world, so when one of their hallas go missing, he takes Warthan by the hand and drags into the woods. Warthan always agrees to follow him. It’s fun after all.
They find halla munching on juicy grass on top of the rock, high enough to make it troublesome to bring her down.
“How are we going to do it?” Aran asks and looks at his superior.
“How about you climb up there and make her come with you?”
“How about I shoot an arrow in your face and you come up with a better plan?”
Warthan laughs.
“Come on. I know you like climbing things. And hallas love you!”
Aran grumbles but climbs up the rock obediently. It’s more fun than standing down there anyway. Halla greets him with a slight bow and makes few steps towards him.
“That’s it, girl. Where did you mean to run?” Aran pets her head and palms her short fur.
“Let’s go,” he says and she snorts at him. “It’s time to go home.”
He drags her to the edge of the rock and shows Warthan a thumb.
“Good work!” the hunter says. “You’ll be a great halla-tender one day!”
“Like I would!” Aran laughs and Warthan smiles back at him. Younger dalish’s smile faints as he sees a shadow lurking in the bushes behind his superior.
“Warthan! Behind you!” he yells and shoots an arrow in that direction in a blink of an eye. What comes from the green is not a human or a beast. It is a living corpse, driven by foul force, aimed to kill anything that has a beating heart. The arrow pierces monster’s head and it falls down, defeated. Other corpses come out of the forest and walk towards Warthan. He prepares for battle, but there are too many of them for him alone to cope with. Aran panics and looks around desperately trying to decide what to do. The answer comes at once - he sees a cave nearby and corpses coming out of it one by one. Whatever is the cause, he has to stop it! He pulls the bowstring and aims at the loose stones above the entrance. He prays that the arrow would hit the bullseye and it does - it hits the stones perfectly and causes a cave-in, blocking the way completely.
“Good work!” Warthan yells. “But I’d appreciate it if you came down and gave me a hand here!”
Aran hops on halla’s back at once and climbs down. Warthan struggles in a fight, facing four or five corpses at once. He’s tired and his forehead is bleeding, but none of his enemies can touch him. Aran joins him and slices the corpses into pieces with his daggers. The fight is short, but furious. Soon, all the enemies are defeated and lying on the ground, motionless. Warthan sheathes his sword and pants.
“Are you alright?” Aran asks, looking at his wound. It doesn’t look deep, but blood keeps streaming over his eye.
“All good. It’s just a scratch. Where’s the halla?”
Aran looks around, but the hart can’t be seen.
“She ran off again, scared by the dead!” he groans and clutches at the head. “Stupid animal!”
At this very moment he hears a thud behind him. He turns around and sees Warthan standing on his fours and panting. Younger dalish rushes to him:
“What’s wrong? Wasn’t it skin-deep?”
“I’m good, Aran,” Warthan tries to smile, but his face grows paler with each second. He is burning with fever and his veins turn dark slowly. He tries to get up, but his limbs fail him and he falls to the ground. Aran turns him over and starts looking for healing potions in his pockets. His senior is poisoned obviously.
“This is bad,” Warthan groans and wipes blood off his face again. “I never wanted to end like this.”
“What are you saying? I’ll give you a potion and you’ll be fine enough to crawl back to the healer,” Aran tries to speak merrily, but his voice breaks. He’s scared. He has never seen his friend at this state before.
“Healer won’t help, dalen,” Warthan says.
Aran frowns at him and pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Warthan stops his hand as junior tries to make him drink the potion.
“Please listen to me,” he says. “The potion won’t help. Neither will the healer. It’s the Blight.”
“Careful with what you’re saying. It’s impossible. The Blight ended years ago.”
“Those are old human mines there. A passage to the Deep Roads must have opened there and the corpses were awaken by the Blight’s curse.”
“That’s… a speculation!” Aran shakes his head. “Come on, drink it. It’s getting worse.”
Warthan smiles. His eyes slowly turn blank and white.
“I know what the curse does to people. I’ve seen it first-handed. It speaks to me in my thoughts and burns me from the inside. Just like my comrades were killed by the Blight, I am now suffering the same fate.”
“Shut up. Shut your mouth, Warthan, or I’ll bit you and get the disease from your blood.”
Warthan tries to laugh, but his breath is so faint he can barely breathe. Aran wipes his eyes quickly.
“Listen to me. Now it’s the time for you to do the right thing. You have to make a decision of an adult. The Blight will slowly kill me and make me rot alive. It will consume my mind and turn me in one of those things we just fought. Do you want that fate for me?”
Aran shakes his head. The tears won’t stop, though he still ceases to admit what is happening.
“I ask you to show mercy. Listen carefully. I’ll tell you what to do.”
And he tells everything.
Don’t be afraid, he says. It’s never easy to make right decisions. Especially when it means stabbing your best friend and your tutor in his heart to ease his suffering.
You’ll have to struggle worse than this, he predicts. But through years, after bloody battles, mind tortures and saving the world Aran still thinks that it was his worst day.
You will never be alone, he comforts. You’ll find allies and friends among the most unexpected people. After so many new acquaintances and friendships with people of different races, nationalities and religions, Aran would still leave them all if it could bring his friend back.
Getting a valasslin hurts, he once said. In a manner of speaking. Aran asks to carve the mark of Gilan’Nain deeper into his skin, so the memory and pain would stay there forever.
Until this day, the tattoo hurts from time to time.
The final one for now. I am SO MUCH into “To You, the Immortal” manga. To me, it’s even greater than “Shape of voice” (same author), but that’s probably because I like fantasy and adventures more than school theme.
Hey guys. Sorry for the low activity. All I do in CG looks like a poo, so I keep drawing on paper for the last few months. Just for my small but precious group of readers I'll post few sketches so you would see that I'm still here :D Thank you so much for staying with me. It means a lot.
Friendly warning: I don’t have scanner and light at my apartment is crappy, so the photos are also crappy. It will be so until I find scanning machine.
So I’ll start with my Gilan. I showed him to you before - my Dragon Age AU dalish-wannabe. I was drawing him while coming back from my theatre rehearsal and one of my co-actors stole him from me before I finished. He sent me this pic and said I’ll never see the sheet again. Fare thee well, Gil.
when you have a cool brainstorming idea of TEW musical (probably short), you can write lyrics and script and visualize it, but: - you want to make it in English and you live in a country where people rarely speak decent English, so nobody would care; - you can't make music; - you don't have the money to find perfect people for the roles, music writers, sound and lightning specialist (because light effects would make it all) and rent a place for rehearsals; - you live - again - in a foreign country and you won't be able to take part in a process properly; - not so many people would make it just for fun because of copyrights. Some dreams are destined to remain so.
These two are recent. On top - Gilan, my AU elf archer. Born in a small village near Starkhaven. His grandfather was dalish, and the boy grew up on grandmother’s stories about how awesome dalish are. His biggest dream is to find a clan and join it. So far, unsuccessful.
The lower one is a character of ANU: The Nephilim Saga. Name’s Roden. He’s sarcastic and cold-blooded (probably cause he’s a cyborg, idk), one of those bad-ass guys whose punch lines are as awesome as the actual punches. But he’s well-bred though. I promise :3
I was at work and you know how it STRIKES you out of nothing and you feel like you have to put it down immediately, or you’ll die.
SO. I came up with this long side-story with my Inquisitor traveling through Emprise du Lyon. I made up the script, but as soon as I started drawing it, THIS HAPPENED.
JUST
UGH
WHY
The notes are in Russian, so from left to the right: Cassandra Fuckmethelast, Inqui, fucking awesome Dorian, Varric somewhere over there.
Me, my gf and my bff started a text Dragon Age AU. Each of us had developed a character. All three of them appeared to be elves (WHO WOLD’VE KNOWN DUH). They were trapped in the Fade and fought a terrible beast (yeah, that one dangling on the mage’s staff). From the left: Makil, Xenon and Gilan. Least one is mine. And Xenon apparently hates rats.
I know tumblr likes AUs, so leave a like and I’ll tell you more.
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