I haven't gotten a lot of time to paint lately as I've been fighting off a nasty chest cold! However, I do have exciting news as I was able to place 1st in the Year of the Giants contest over on the Reaper forum in the diorama division. I call this piece: "Mothers" Here's the write-up I did for it:
Mothers
The Beast of the North has teeth that are unseen, yet cut to the bone. She has eyes that never sleep, ever seeking to slip your soul from its mooring into eternal slumber. She has claws that rip babes from their mother’s arms, fathers from the arms of their brides, and tear through the fragile bonds that bind the elderly to this plane. The North is a harsh mistress, and the creatures that survive there has been shaped by her cruel nature.
Such was the fate of Kendric, Elder Tribesman of Eagle’s Eyrie, husband of Kaya, father of Bran and Hrothgar, beloved of many. In the year of the two moons, his life was stamped out by one of these cruel creations of the Beast: Nidhogg the Vile, Wyrm of the North.
It was the night when Nidhogg came,
Seeking souls and meat to fill her venter.
The dark mistress hungered for innocent flesh,
Young and pure to quench her bloodthirst.
Though large, crafty she was,
Sliding silently though the frost-kissed glade.
Through town and tent she glided,
Until old Nidhogg found young Hrothgar’s bed.
The blood of kings this night she needed,
And that of the young and pure.
Two chomps and a swallow were all it took
To silence young Hrothgar’s cry.
In wide-eyed silence stood young Bran,
His turn next to die.
But lo! In came brave Kendric,
Blazing axe held high.
Chomp, chomp went the Wyrm’s fierce maw,
Rage blazing in Nidhogg’s eye.
Kendric knew the time was short,
His last young son to save.
The Vile lunged, the two she desired to claim,
Brave Kendric met the charge head on,
The Wyrm’s head he sought to mame.
As time and tale doth quite repeat,
Young Bran he managed to save.
But lo! Great Kendric the dawn did not greet,
By Nidhogg the Vile he was slain.
Great fire from her form did flare,
Igniting wood, and flesh, and bone.
Fear, and tears, and blood did flow,
Revenge did Kaya vow.
The Wyrm herself a mother now,
In matronly care does rest.
Kaya the Ravager plots in fury,
To slay the Wyrm or die.
The cost to the village was great. Nidhogg the Vile, Wyrm of the North visited many that night, causing pain and destruction wherever she went. Many lives were lost, and the very existence of the tribe was in peril. Widowed and with no one to care for young Bran, Kaya the Ravager, baby Bran in tow, set forth into the wilderness. She has vowed to either take the head of Nidhogg and bring life to the village, or end the dynasty with her death and that of young Bran.
Mothers
The Beast of the North has teeth that are unseen, yet cut to the bone. She has eyes that never sleep, ever seeking to slip your soul from its mooring into eternal slumber. She has claws that rip babes from their mother’s arms, fathers from the arms of their brides, and tear through the fragile bonds that bind the elderly to this plane. The North is a harsh mistress, and the creatures that survive there has been shaped by her cruel nature.
Such was the fate of Kendric, Elder Tribesman of Eagle’s Eyrie, husband of Kaya, father of Bran and Hrothgar, beloved of many. In the year of the two moons, his life was stamped out by one of these cruel creations of the Beast: Nidhogg the Vile, Wyrm of the North.
It was the night when Nidhogg came,
Seeking souls and meat to fill her venter.
The dark mistress hungered for innocent flesh,
Young and pure to quench her bloodthirst.
Though large, crafty she was,
Sliding silently though the frost-kissed glade.
Through town and tent she glided,
Until old Nidhogg found young Hrothgar’s bed.
The blood of kings this night she needed,
And that of the young and pure.
Two chomps and a swallow were all it took
To silence young Hrothgar’s cry.
In wide-eyed silence stood young Bran,
His turn next to die.
But lo! In came brave Kendric,
Blazing axe held high.
Chomp, chomp went the Wyrm’s fierce maw,
Rage blazing in Nidhogg’s eye.
Kendric knew the time was short,
His last young son to save.
The Vile lunged, the two she desired to claim,
Brave Kendric met the charge head on,
The Wyrm’s head he sought to mame.
As time and tale doth quite repeat,
Young Bran he managed to save.
But lo! Great Kendric the dawn did not greet,
By Nidhogg the Vile he was slain.
Great fire from her form did flare,
Igniting wood, and flesh, and bone.
Fear, and tears, and blood did flow,
Revenge did Kaya vow.
The Wyrm herself a mother now,
In matronly care does rest.
Kaya the Ravager plots in fury,
To slay the Wyrm or die.
The cost to the village was great. Nidhogg the Vile, Wyrm of the North visited many that night, causing pain and destruction wherever she went. Many lives were lost, and the very existence of the tribe was in peril. Widowed and with no one to care for young Bran, Kaya the Ravager, baby Bran in tow, set forth into the wilderness. She has vowed to either take the head of Nidhogg and bring life to the village, or end the dynasty with her death and that of young Bran.
Here's a General Pic:
Here's the collage of the piece:
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