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Wolf's Lamb Mask - Kindred by Koeryn
Wolf's Lamb Mask - Kindred
Got bored, drew Kindred's Lamb mask. Came out better than expected, and WAY better than Lamb's Wolf mask, which doesn't even belong in my scraps.

But hey, I drew something and didn't hate it. So there's that. 

About half an hour, all pen (penciled in and erased Wolf's ears 'cause I couldn't draw the rest of his face).
FNX-45 Tactical by Koeryn
FNX-45 Tactical
I had access to a really nice camera and a really nice firearm from FN. Couldn't resist!

No color adjustment, I have only removed dust and the glass table (and reinserted the reflection).
SOG Kiku by Koeryn
SOG Kiku
An absolutely beautiful knife from SOG. Excellent balance and... Well. It's a pretty knife.
The Sword

A wise heroine once asked if we were truly the heroes fighting to keep the peace, or merely the weapon pointed at the enemy by someone else. In her time she was the epitome of a perfect heroine: Absolutely beautiful, powerful, and just. Her strikes were always true, her speed and strength were that of legend, and her humility was simply the icing on the cake.

For her, this question was of existential importance as we stood above the bodies of children, collateral damage of our battle against evil. None of us present had an easy answer in the face of the tragedy, but the injustice of the situation resonated with her on a deeper level. The lack of answer, or perhaps the answer she suddenly realized but couldn't voice, drove her onto a dangerous path of self discovery, and eventually to become a rogue hero, free of the control of the states that had once sponsored her.

It was during this time that she truly came into her own. At last, the nagging doubts were gone, replaced by a single minded focus as she fought against the injustice and corruption of the world at large. Hunted by nearly every power on the planet, she followed her heart, and some would say even saved her soul before her good deeds caught up to her. Her death was the inevitable answer to an almost rhetorical question, but some people don't suffer such doubts.

You see, I am the weapon.

My blade has spilled more blood in the span of my existence than many ancient warlords, blood of the righteous, blood of the innocent, and blood of the wicked at the will of those who wield me. The hands that have controlled me have raised and felled empires, crushed regimes, and eliminated oppressors. I am the strength of my wielders.

It has been a century since last I was wakened by a master worthy of my attention, so tell me...

Are you the Hero?
She loathed peasants. She had not started out that way of course. Her extensive training had instilled a sense of duty and honor into the young sorceress, and her first year of travelling the land battling ancient evils had been exactly as she had hoped.

During that year, she had earned the trust and companionship of her dragon familiar, learned the hard lessons of combat that no training could teach, and become a much beloved figure in several villages and towns. She had destroyed, banished, or sealed away all manner of evil. In short, she was becoming quite successful in her craft.

That is, until she noticed a pattern emerging in her second year. It seemed that no matter the teachings, warnings, or pleas she left the peasants with, sooner or later someone was going to forget what she said, or willingly ignore the signs of danger, and she, or someone like her, would have to return to banish whatever evil had been awakened or invited.

Not long after this realisation of the abject stupidity of the unwashed masses, she found herself taking perverse pleasure in hunting down the fool or fools to cause the latest calamity and killing them herself, even when it meant resurrecting them and destroying their now-undead corpse. After all, someone needed to be punished.

The sight below her however was simply too much. The valley was full of the undead, and even without tapping into her familiar's sharp eyes, she recognised several who only recently had been alive and well in a nearby village. She had warned them to move not six months before, and had they listened, they'd have been alive and well today. Instead, they had swelled the numbers of an evil priest's army of monsters, making it impossible for her to sneak through the ruins and into the evil bastard's lair.

She sneered as she gave the dragon's chin a final scratch and slipped back into the trees.

She truly loathed peasants.



I sang to an empty room. Wearing my laundry-day-best! Enjoy.

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WolfRoxy Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thanks for the watch~  
Koeryn Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2015
Thanks for sharing your awesome art!
Bluecatdemoness Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2015
:hug: It has been a long time.
Koeryn Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2015
You're not kidding! :hug: How ya been?
Bluecatdemoness Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2015
Been better, but I'll manage. Decided to take a walk down Nostalgia lane and see who might still be here. I miss all of ya'll!
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