Journey of the PoeT

Posts tagged ketekal

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“Stupid lizard.  Thought he was so tough.  I broke him like a twig.” VERY rough work.  So want to keep working on this but it’s almost 1:30am and I have to work tomorrow.  Alas! Still very much experimental at this point, but I’m getting a feel for what’s required to make this work.  Characters interact well enough, but the real challenge will be backgrounds.  Though, I have an idea for how that’s going to work.  I’ve realized that what I’m doing isn’t far off from when movie makers use blue screen.  They’ll often set up a sort rough approximation of the set that they’re going to CG in later.  There might be something in that for what I’m doing.

“Stupid lizard.  Thought he was so tough.  I broke him like a twig.”

VERY rough work.  So want to keep working on this but it’s almost 1:30am and I have to work tomorrow.  Alas!

Still very much experimental at this point, but I’m getting a feel for what’s required to make this work.  Characters interact well enough, but the real challenge will be backgrounds.  Though, I have an idea for how that’s going to work.  I’ve realized that what I’m doing isn’t far off from when movie makers use blue screen.  They’ll often set up a sort rough approximation of the set that they’re going to CG in later.  There might be something in that for what I’m doing.

Filed under art Experimental digital drawing daz stuido wacom mypaint the story Jad'ek John McLarry Kethel Zantar ketekal human

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The Mountain Man - Sketch Taken from this Story excerpt. As the final words died in the air, the hillock began to move.  Rocks, grass, dirt, vines, shrubs, everything began to quiver.  The four travelers stumbled back, half turned, not daring to take their eyes off the spectacle before them.  Great hands of dirt and roots began to emerge from the ground, followed by arms and a head, like a man rising up from a pool of water, but the man was imminence - his shoulders, a dozen soldiers could have stood across with space between them, his great, broad hands could have hurled boulders as easily as one tosses a stone.  As the head broke the surface a great rumbling groan passed through the ground, like the mountains themselves were straining. Slowly he rose, his broad frame built of the earth, of rocks and stones and supple plants.  His hair was stiff reeds, his long beard of moss, and his eyes were the purest sapphire.  He stretched as one awaking from a deep, long sleep and rubbed mud from his gleaming eyes.

The Mountain Man - Sketch

Taken from this Story excerpt.

As the final words died in the air, the hillock began to move.  Rocks, grass, dirt, vines, shrubs, everything began to quiver.  The four travelers stumbled back, half turned, not daring to take their eyes off the spectacle before them.  Great hands of dirt and roots began to emerge from the ground, followed by arms and a head, like a man rising up from a pool of water, but the man was imminence - his shoulders, a dozen soldiers could have stood across with space between them, his great, broad hands could have hurled boulders as easily as one tosses a stone.  As the head broke the surface a great rumbling groan passed through the ground, like the mountains themselves were straining.

Slowly he rose, his broad frame built of the earth, of rocks and stones and supple plants.  His hair was stiff reeds, his long beard of moss, and his eyes were the purest sapphire.  He stretched as one awaking from a deep, long sleep and rubbed mud from his gleaming eyes.

Filed under The Story The Huma Vev-Verna kethel Ketekal Jad'ek John McLarry digital drawing art sketch wacom

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An Excerpt III

“I apologize for the delay, Mr. McLarry. But, at last, we bring this one before you. We have called her Jad’ek, but I do not know what her father would have named her.”

Behind Jiiraz stood, flanked on either side by guards, a tall, slender, black and white furred Devenan. Her face belied her fathers strength with a softness John presumed must be her mothers. She wore only tattered, loose fitting clothes of some sickly cloth, the color of which was defined more by what it had come in contact with by chance than any conscious design. She carried no personal effects, but what would fit in an equally tattered cloth sack. Though she bent down, lowering her head before the Zantarins, as any slave would, her eyes burned bright green, as of a perfect emerald. John was surprised. Kethel thunderstruck.

“It’s her!” Cried the Ketekal “the one from last night! In the ship!”

Jiiraz narrowed his eyes and the guards visibly stiffened.

“She only arrived this morning..” He hissed, almost a growl, “So you must have seen someone else.. many do look alike.”

“But I know it was her.” Insisted Kethel, “Those eyes are unmistakable!”

“Can we worry about this later?” Grumbled McLarry. “All I care about is getting this job over with. We’ve spent too long here as it is, and I do have other contracts to fulfill.”

Kethel hesitated, staring intently at Jad’ek, who looked up briefly, catching his eyes. Did she smile? Kethel blinked and glanced at John, who obviously hadn’t seen if she had. Nor had the Zanatarins and the guards were obviously growing restless. Their eyes darted between the two strangers and they griped their sword hilts tightly. Was it just the presence of two other-worlders in the palace or the fact that Kethel – a mere Denevan – had challenged the local champion to a fight that was bothering them?

“Alright..” Muttered Kethel, returning his gaze to the soon to be ex-slave. “We can work it out kiru laneda – en route, as you might say.”

Filed under Jad'ek Jiiraz John McLarry Ketekal Keteva Kethel The Story Work in Progress Zantar excerpt invented language