Tag: fantasy
#8 – Soorana
You will want to take a look at my last entry, Chiasnos, to understand more about her former lover. Her son, Naskos, is a big guy you can read about on my deviantART!
If you’re on Google+, I have a Page set up for Djinnborn! I’ll be posting other updates, links, images, and world information as I continue putting the comic together. Hope to see you there!
#7 Professor Pinn
Professor Pinn is like the Q (from 007 movies) to Agent Acorn and the Animal Elite. Pinn is the genius behind the clever gadgets and weapons used by the agents of the Elite. Along with being the Chief Weapons Expert of the AE, Pinn is the Head of Intelligence. Sounds like a lot of work and responsibility for an animal as slow as a turtle but Pinn’s brain works faster than his body does. Let’s just say there are a lot of gophers in his lab…literally.
#7 Anil
Anil is part dragon, part boy, and lives in the high, secluded mountians in a small tribe. He is often ridiculed because of his small wingspan, which are not large enough to support his flight. So instead, he works as an backup assistant for the local medic, where can can stay on the ground. In his spare time he likes to climb and explore around his home.
A Squeeb, from my Novel “Mentor”
The Squeeb are a large (about two feet long not counting the tail) rodent-type creature that proliferates in the UnderCity. They are intelligent, loyal and best of all, tameable as pets and hunters.
Note: I might post more about these creatures later. I’ve run out of time for today. Sorry.
Day 7: The Queen
Again, i will try to upload art at another time.
When she was crowned the Queen, she was young and lively. Though she married, she could not give birth. She was still upheld throughout the kingdom as the wonderful queen.
Her people loved her dearly.
Time passed and the King perished due to old age but the Queen continued to rule and her Kingdom remained happy.
Some whispered and wondered what would happen when the Queen perished.
The Queen grew old and still she reigned.
In time the Queen could no longer walk about her people as she once did.
The light grew dim in her eyes and her body withered.
Gradually the people saw less and less of their beloved Queen but still she reigned.
Orders came forth, words of wisdom and hope. Words of love for her subjects.
Decades later the people still live under their Queen who seems more legend now than reality. Still orders come forth. Words of wisdom and hope.
Words of love for her loyal and faithful subjects.
#5 Sciven Quick-foot
A revolutionary oof the world of Trizzt, Sciven is not a supporter of the Earthlings and their colonization program. She sees the Earthers for what they are: Resource theives; Locusts at best, hoping from world to world and gobbling up what they can, leaving the planets they colonize diseased and barren. Sciven understands the need for allies, though. The rumors circulating from other worlds of the burning ones, has reachedher ears as well…of the conquerors. They ARE coming.
Trizzt will not cower. Trizzt will not bow. Trizzt will fight back. Sciven knows this.
#4 The Green Monks
There is only one religion of the beings of Charn, and the Green Monks are the preachers of Aresium. The holy word of Aresium speaks of the Architect, or creator of all known beings. The Monks are a vast organization with tendrils spread throughout most of the known galaxy, with various operatives dedicated to specific goals of the Monks and the Pillars. The Pillars guide the Monks in the desires of the Majestrix. Secretly the role of of the Green Monks has been to find evidence of the creator in all beings which thus far has been the case, but a new initiative has been put forth by the Majestrix herself since the conquering of a new world on the outskirts of the Dominion. A world inhabited by a race of prognosticators…
#3 – Colem Cready
A former football player, and “that guy”, Colem has assisted the colonization of at least a dozen new worlds since Earth began the New Life program. He has been awarded numerous accolades for valor and diplomacy, (something he chuckles at), and amazingly has not seen heavy casualties on any of his off-world missions. His current mission to Trizzt 4, is a bit different. The indigenous people who currently live there are very welcoming to new cultures and even the new colony. They’ve offered only friendship and have asked that their people be allowed to live amonst human worlds – something the New Life program has not seen yet. Perhaps humanity has found it’s first true  interstellar ally…
#7 – Chiasnos
You can read more about Naskos on my deviantART.
Now I need to go catch up on all the posts I missed this weekend due to my birthday!
Day 1: Gregory Gnome
I decided to keep it light and go with a fun fantasy theme. Say hello to Gregory Gnome
Day 06 –Sjana of Upper City from my novel “Mentor”
Sjana of Upper City takes a last look back …
before leaping into the unknown.
Sjanatha A’tan Re’ khalanth, only daughter of widower Kinsaar A’tan Re’kalanth, Governor of the Lakes Region of Vindertrest on the Rim planet T’rest.
Always a handful to manage, one always had the feeling the child had been born in the wrong time. Willful and petulant when balked. Inclined to go her own way regardless of the effect on others. Though to her credit, she never meant to cause grief to others. It was her passion for knowledge that caused her to seek ways around the safety protocols, precautions, and barriers. Se sought knowledge born of experience, rather than that readily available on the Grid, or from MAICS’s archives. She did gain knowledge from both those sources, but somehow it was not enough. Somehow she had to get herself physically inside a subject and turn it inside out until she really felt she knew it.
But that was a hard thing to do on T’rest. Especially since the war, after the ships stopped landing here. After the Bubble went up. Sjana’s Aunt, Renala del Re’sjahlak, Sister to Sjana’s mother Deira, had done the best she could to give Sjana the kind of loving guidance that her own sister Deira would have given her. And the two adored each other. But Renala was a fairly conventional woman. Though she had admired her sister’s bravery and forth right nature, she had often harboured thoughts that perhaps her sister’s untimely death had something to do with that nature. Her inability to let a thing go, let it ride…
Sjana took after Deira. Openly standing up for the weak. Loyal, bold and honest and forth right most of the time, but not afraid to go behind one’s back in order to fulfil a perceived obligation. At this age, the tender age of seventeen, what Sjana thought was right and proper, she also thought everyone else should think was right and proper. It just never occurred to her that other people had their own agendas, and was surprised when people were offended or angry with her. She was often full of remorse to find that her actions had negative effects on others, and did what she could to make amends. But she wasn’t sorry that she’d done it. Because, well… she needed to. She was just very sorry that her needs had hurt others. All this coupled with her inexhaustible energy, sooner or later Sjana was bound to make trouble in a big way.
And so it was no surprise when Sjana’s synthdroid mentor, a’tannattal, reported her missing, last “seen” by MAICS over thirty hours ago heading toward the promontory. No Grid activity since then. Somehow, to Renala’s horror, Sjana had finally found a way to have escaped the Grid as she had often threaten to do. That or she was dead. How could a child survive with no Grid to guide her? The Grid was the one topic that Renala and Sjana could never see eye to eye. To Renala the Grid represented safety and freedom. You could never be alone. And that was just the opposite of what it represented to Sjana. To her it was stifling and intrusive. And you could never be alone. You could never experience anything or yourself, first hand. It chafed and she plotted ways and means to escape such benevolent tyranny.
Excerpt from “Mentor”:
She woke a long time later, stiff and sore with her head on her pack and her knees pulled up to her chest. She’d been dreaming about her mother again. Her mother who was smart and brave and beautiful and who loved her, just like Auntie had told her so often. She herself hardly remembered her, but dreaming about her was like a benediction.
She sat up working her neck muscles, moving her head from side to side when a gleam of pale light began dawning, not from above as she had expected, but from somewhere over there to her left; from the wall of the gap she had fallen into. She scrambled to her feet and slung on the pack. She stumbled over the stones and broken bits of marble to the light and found that there was yet another hole, this one big enough to swallow three of her.
She poked her head through the hole and looked around. There were other holes, like large broken windows, across from where she stood. The light was coming from there. They really looked like they might have once been windows. She’d learned about windows years ago when she’d asked why she couldn’t go to the places she saw on the windows, and was told they were only projections on screens that MAICS put there for us. Real windows were holes in the walls with an almost invisible substance fitted into it. to keep the outside outside so to speak. Those holes over there looked like that and that the light which was coming through them at angle was really somewhere outside. Light was coming in from outside. Was there no end to the wonders?
There was a whirring sound above her head. She ducked instinctively as something soft scraped across her hair. there was a blur in front of her then a second later was somewhere else. So fast that she couldn’t focus on it, but it seemed to be a small bird, flying.
“How did you get out of your cage?” She murmured at it. Startled, it flew up out of her sight and she craned her neck to see where it had gone. There were hundreds of them up there, wings vibrating faster than light it seemed. And then she looked down. And gasped. It was a long way down. In fact it was so far down that she couldn’t see the bottom. The area that she could see, the part that held up the marble floor above her, was about forty feet by sixty feet, she estimated. There was a wide ledge, maybe six feet wide just below her hole, and the window holes on the other side, not all of which let in light, went down and down and down until you could no longer see any. What was this place? Did MAICS know about it? Why were there cageless birds here? Could they be wild birds? like they’d sometimes seen on the promontory?
Wonders! And nothing could have stopped her at that moment from climbing out through the hole and dropping the few feet to the ledge.
#6 – Mennel
You can read about Kollan (Mennel’s brother and one of the five main characters) either on my blog post or at my deviantART.
Tarou of Undercity from my Novel “Mentor”.
A rock painting of the hunter, Tarou, attributed to Gibbi the Seer painted in her youth.
Tarou: A young man of burning intensity. Wary, incredibly strong and yet still fast and agile in spite of his size and bulging muscles. Sometimes huge slabs of grey stone would fall from high above. Once, Tarou lifted one of these slabs to rescue the contents of the storage hut that had been crushed beneath it. He was very strong. The strongest in the tribe. But he was also smart. He could quickly size up any situation and then act upon his conclusions. Sometimes the conclusions were wrong, as where Marnal was concerned, but where danger threatened, or when new tactics were needed on a hunt, he was more often right. The packs that he led on hunts always returned, to a man or woman, not always whole or with all their limbs, but alive to hunt another day. And always returned with that for which they had gone out to hunt. And as he grew in stature and aged into his first manhood, there were fewer and fewer casualties. In this he had more and more of the awe and respect of the tribe.
Tarou was considered the best hunter the tribe had ever had and was therefore in line for the leadership. That was something he wasn’t sure he wanted. But the present leader was still young and had all his digits, so that decision could be put away for now. That being the case he couldn’t help being a little full of himself. A little arrogant, though always respectful to the elders. This showed mostly in his pursuit of the woman of his choice. Marnal. She was perfect for him. She matched him in every way and one day she would realise it and stop this silly holding him at bay, putting him off. Pretending that she had no interest in bedding with him. No matter. He was patience itself. Though he wasn’t adverse to pushing her a little. She always gave as good as she got. He’d love to experience that passion under the skins of their own hut someday.
He smiled inwardly at the thought. He rarely let others know his inner feelings, though his actions usually spoke louder than his expressions. Yes, he was pleased with the way things were going, with Marnal as his constant companion, even though she never sought him out. She sought the company of no man. Likely this was to reduce the jealousies that her kind could induce in a well balanced hunting team. He was aware that there was no other man in the tribe who could stand up to him in either appearance, strength, or wit. And Marnal. She was all business all the time. She was focused and quick witted and though not as strong as he (how could she be? She was a female!) But she used her wit to advantages that strength alone couldn’t match.
Then there was the rock painting that little Gibbi had made of him. She had mixed ash and ichor and had stroked it deftly onto a piece of the black rock that lay under every part of his world. It was a special honour to be chosen as subject for one of her paintings. She had done something unusual with the eyes. Not unpleasant, but strange, that made the subject look both determined and intense. Was that how he looked to others? Still it pleased him like so many things did. He was pleased and yet there were stirrings of unease in him, as if a change were coming, bringing the unknown hurtling down upon them like a falling slab of grey rock.
#4 The Vortex Swimmer
I don’t know anything about her. She arrived in and exited my doodle-book in exactly the way pictured here.
#4 – Minister Khefir
Not entirely sure if I like the colors. I kinda do, kinda don’t. I spent a lot of time tinkering with them and finally decided to be done.
Anyway, this guy’s not all that pleasant to be around, especially if you’re a sorcerer in Aremshah. He basically controls your life. Can’t imagine why he’s nervous about a sorcerer being in a higher position than him
Day 03- Goblin Freud
This is Goblin Freud. He was arrested by the good fairies long ago for picking up field mice and smashing their skulls with his huge hammer. After he was arrested the good fairies wanted to remind others not to hurt small rodents. They clearly couldn’t use the story of Goblin Freud as an example because it was dreadfully gory and would frighten the children. Instead they changed his name up a bit, pretended he was a bunny, and as a result we now have the song we all know “Little Bunny Freu Freu.”
#3 – mountainous trolls
Mountainous trolls range from being several hundred feet tall, up to a mile in height. Most lie dormant and whole villages populate them without knowing, until the day they awaken and stretch … which usually wipes out the people living on them. These are 2 smaller ones that are several decades old judging by the tree growth, which is common among mountainous trolls. Most are friendly enough as long as you leave them alone. Others are angry and bitter and destroy everything they see.
The Droogle, A Live SynthPet ©BioSynth, from my novel “Mentor”
The Droogle, Designer DNA SynthPet from “Mentor” my novel WIP.
This SynthPet, Droogle, ©BioSynth Corporation, was designed by Frabgo A’tal Rethgrad as a promotional gift for the wife of the Governor of the Lakes District of T’rest, Deira A’tan Re’kalanth del Re’sjahlak. Deira found the whole concept of designer pets and humans for the marketplace sickening and abhorrent, but the political gambit on the part of the BioSynth Marketing paid off for them in spades.
The pet was hairless, brightly coloured, and was grown from DNA from a surprising number of indigenous species, as you can probably tell by looking at it’s flat snout, leathery ears, and claws. It was also tweaked to be playful, obedient, and docile in the presence of humans. It had no teeth and could only take liquid nourishment due to it’s tight chitinous neck rings. To Deira A’tan Re’kalanth it was the embodiment of an abomination, a parody of a living creature, an yet it was a living creature harmless and deserving of food, shelter and love, like any other living creature.
In her position, politically she could not refuse the pet since it was already alive. On the one hand, she could not condone a practise she found painfully abhorrent and that she had secretly been trying to undermine. On the other, she couldn’t bear to have a living thing destroyed, and she knew that the media (fueled by BioSynth tainted coin) would forever hold her up as a champion of the SynthPet market. It wasn’t the pets themselves that she hated. To her, they were the victims, like all the designer dna creatures BioSynth leased in public and in private.
Her strong views on Designer DNA SynthPets were known to the media and therefore the general public who held her in great respect. This of course kept the sales of the Synth pets lower than estimated, hence the design of a gift Deira couldn’t refuse. If she refused it the pet would be returned to the BioMass vats, effectively killing it, to Deira’s way of thinking. She grew to love the little Droodle as it was named on the certificate of ownership (which was actually a lease) at the same time as she grew to hate it’s creators.
When the Droodle began to show signs of biogenetic deterioration, patchy skin colour, fading, jaundice around the eyes and mouth, she swore vengeance on those who had created a living being into a life of pain and torture. She finally formed the Society for the Abolishment of SynthPet Creation. Her husband the Governor, backed her up, risking losing everything. And just as the tension grew to a head, she contracted a rare new disease and died within days.
Upon the death of the owner, a SynthPet who was not passed on as heirloom to another member of the diseased family, was collected by BioSynth, and if healthy was re-sold. If found to be unhealthy was returned to the vats.
When Synth Corp arrived to pick up the Droodle, it could not be found. It’s disappearance was hushed up and the consequences of irresponsibility were once again cast aside by BioSnth Corp –for a time.
#3 Hope
Living in a land where oppressors dominate and enslave the lower class, Hope is a girl trapped in her city by the bracelet she wears around her neck. Should she step outside of the city boundary, her fate is sealed. At a young age, she and her older brother, Zack, were separated from their mother and was taken in by their current master. Life with him and his family isn’t terrible, but Hope and Zack know that they shouldn’t have to live that way. Despite how their future looks, Hope is optimistic about escaping and finally becoming free.
While drawing this, I noticed that a lot of the time I draw really small, especially on Photoshop :/ So I drew this bigger than usual and this was the result. I have to try harder, I’m still not satisfied ):
#3 – Catala
Remember this guy? Well, this is what the women of his race look like. Tall, purple, and willowy.
I didn’t get her completely shaded so I’ll probably replace this image later this evening. She looks a lot better even with the partial shading than without, so I decided to put her up like this.
I should note that in Musia, gender roles are very defined. Women handle most financial matters, men deal with most security and military matters. The two cogs function well as part of a larger whole, resulting in two Musian-led empires in recorded history. That’s why Musian men and women will typically dress and act very differently from each other. It’s almost like they live in two separate cultures.
Musians also have three names, similar to Roman names. They typically go by their “middle” name, with the first being used for formal occasions and the last being how they identify family associations.
I have plans for at least two more Musians (one male, one female), so stay tuned!
EDIT: I realized I left out a word. It should say “she runs a mercantile empire” instead of “she runs a empire”
#2 – Chancellor Hasal
Special thanks to the Color Scheme Designer website for helping me develop a palette that goes well with sky-blue skin.
Sketched, drawn, colored in Illustrator. You can read more about my setting on my comic development blog!
#30Characters Chatter…