"The green glimmers of the wolf’s eyes drew closer, when Finrod suddenly heard a soft sigh originating from the mouth of the pit, somewhere near the wolves.
It was a sigh of pity, of faint sorrow, and most of all, it sounded resigned, like someone finally realizing the sheer weight of an arduous task he had been given.
Resignation was no stranger in a lightless, hopeless pit, yet when it should originate from the position of the gaoler? It was a chilling thing indeed.
The next moment there was light. A golden glow filled the pit, dim and soft, that even Beren only had to blink twice before his eyes adjusted. The light seemed to come from the form by the wolves, for that form was decidedly glowing; yet perhaps it also came from nowhere, for the pit seemed evenly lit, bathed in that gentle golden light.
And a voice asked, “Do you see well enough now?”
Like the sigh, the voice contained a trace of pity and sorrow, and it was gentle, like a physician before the most afflicted patients.
Finrod steeled himself and looked up. There on the stairs, flanked by two wolves taller than him, was a figure in black, walking slowly towards them. That form was tall and slender, seemingly a Man, yet elven fair. His jet black hair turned to russet gold at the end and seemed to glow with an inner light. His eyes, orbs of fathomless gold with rings of silver, did not glow, but looked almost as if they should have glowed, but veiled to let no light escape. His black robe and mantle were sewn with golden thread, designs of scales and wings that gleamed faintly in the wan gold light.
Finrod frowned, his mind racing to every reason, every logic, every possibility with fervor. This was Sauron. Its presence was undoubtedly the fallen Maia, its Power immense, even its form and voice seemed like the fair deception a being like Sauron would choose.
Yet this was not the Sauron he dueled days ago, that being brimming with malice, glee, and pride would never look so… contained."
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Haven't hand drawn/painted anything in a long while, so getting back to it was... painful. Outcome wise. The process itself was kinda fun.
In any case, this is for a story I am currently working, something I call: treating a crack premise with utmost narrative seriousness. And the crack premise is: what if we replace Sauron in the First Age with a humanistic deity from a very non-Abrahamic tradition. and let the Archon of Contracts, god of the earth, god of gold, wealth, and commerce take a stab at loving humanity (broadly defined) for a while? So yes, this is an illustration of Zhongli-as-Sauron, in the pits of Tol-in-Gaurhoth.
But in any case, here is the link for those interested for this weird-ass-but-very-serious-story: Crack of Doom.
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
titsay
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
