Zonorhc

Thanks for the comments so far guys. This is actually my first piece involving pixel art, and I'm more used to brushing scanned sketches. Oh, and NeToX, I can be your god. I already have a small (7 people) cult following. :)

Another (huge) bump! I decided to do a bit more work on it, still trying to decide what background to use. Really considering a dungeon/temple setting...

About a month ago I built myself a spear as part of a project for Ancient History. Cutting through bone is a VERY smelly job, even after you dry it out for two weeks. Spear works well though, for a six-foot piece of oak with a sharp piece of bone lashed to the top. In other news, try getting some kendo lessons, or fencing. Fencing is fun. Training weapons are easy to acquire. Just go to your local hardware store and buy the correct size of wooden dowel. Make sure it's either light or balanced to one end, though, or you'll strain your arms swinging it. Grab an extra one and pad both with a bit of foam and you and your friends can whack each other to your heart's content.

You either: a) Have no clue whatsoever about what you're doing; B) Have never seen a hatchet, a suit of armour, clouds, lightning, trees, or a human being; or c) Both a and b.

Hilt's too long and there's no curve in the blade. Nice try.

I'm getting a read of 129, 129, 129 on Photoshop 7.

The best way to practise swordsmanship is with a sparring partner. If you want to practise against a stationary object, look into iaijutsu, though a partner is still recommended for that. Iaijutsu against stationary objects is only to practise the technique, without actually working on the quick-draw duelling skill. Now, since you don't actually HAVE a sword, you could try making one out of wood. A hardwood staff about 1" thick and 4'10" should be enough to simulate a katana. A wakizashi would be about 2'4" in total length, but that's not required.

Here's the render without the Photoshop work...

Points to note, seeing as how a LOT of people here make mistakes in depictions of archery: - A bow that small would be unable to launch an arrow of that size beyond ten feet. - Unless I'm horribly mistaken, you lead with the leg on the same side as the hand holding the bow. This means the LEFT, if you are right-handed. - You will sight with your head turned towards the bow, and only your head. Your body should be on the same line as your leading arm, and thus be facing to the side. - You NEVER fire a bow while holding it downwards. The back of your leading hand should be facing the opposite direction in relation to your body. - Never use ANY weapon while keeping your feet together like that. Balance is required. - The fletchings on the arrow are too short. Consider extending them a little further down the shaft so they cover about 1/10 of its length. Short fletchings are useless. - Broad, triangular arrowheads are useless. It's impossible to tell the actualy shape from the arrow, but the glow seems to indicate that it's a broad arrowhead. If using a broad arrowhead, make sure it is curved, not pointed.

CHAPTER FIVE: Reception Relief flowed into Vriskath like a river as he finally cast his eyes on his destination, the fort-city of Ar'sith'kla, the black jewel dominating this cube of Avalas. It had been five days since he had left Thaniel's side, and his weary feet dragged along the dirt as he trudged through the final stretch of wasteland. Ar'sith'kla was a rambling affair of high walls and great towers bearing the many scars of battle. A glistening black keep of iron and stone rose from the centre of the city, above which flew many worn banners and standards. Red eyes of light shone in the face of the structure from its many windows and arrow-slits. The city below the keep was hidden from view by the walls, rising progressively taller in three layers around the keep. The foulburgh outside the walls was, as far as Vriskath was concerned, the most inviting section of the city. As he approached, the dim noise of battle from the rest of the plane were muffled out by more civillian sounds - merchants hawking wares, idle chatter, and the like - though there was still a disciplined, ordered tone to everything. Guardsmen marched through the streets in orderly ranks, buildings all shared the same architecture, and even the common people kept to the same drab styles of dress. There was a definite military atmosphere in the city. Most of the wares being sold by street vendors were weaponry and survival gear, and the only types of food sold were three or four varieties of iron rations. Many of the taverns and inns Vriskath passed by on his way to the outer gate appeared to be barracks more than anything else. A sign made of magical lights close to the gate proclaimed that it had been seven weeks since the last collision, three since the last battle, and twelve since the last siege. Numbers of casualties from each event were also listed, though Vriskath ignored them for lack of interest. Arriving at the gate, a sign informed him that it would not be opened until the next day for reasons denied to the public. Somewhat relieved that he would have time to rest before carrying out his mission, Vriskath took the time to examine the walls should he have to make a quick escape. The black-painted, iron-bound stone walls loomed sixty feet into the hazy air, sloping outwards at the plinth and bearing odd, curved segmentations at regular intervals of five feet. The iron gates bore these as well. The battlements appeared to be edged with blades to deter climbers, and Vriskath saw small, serrated edges along the outer rim, connected to what appeared to be a chain running through the outside of the wall. The towers rose only ten feet or so above the wall, and were similarly equipped with bladed battlements and the odd chains. It was impossible to see from the base of the wall, but Vriskath assumed that there would be siege engines atop the towers. Having seen enough of the defenses, Vriskath walked away and retraced his steps, finding his way back to the square where the sign of lights stood, and where he remembered seeing an inn. With a passing glance to the rather morbid sign, he entered the establishment, whose own sign proclaimed it to be the Rusted Blade. Entering the rather drab and musty common room, he noted only four patrons: a pair of humans at a table, mercenaries by their dress and weaponry; a tiefling girl with small horns and goat legs sitting at the bar, with the appearance of a traveller more than anything else, and a one-eyed dwarf in a corner, quietly eating his meal and drinking his ale. "Greetin's, cutter, and welcome ta the Rusted Blade," a grinning, well-muscled human man called from behind the bar. "Hopin' ya enjoy your stay, and that ya ain't a bloomin' tanar'ling or any of them chaotic berks." The tiefling had turned as he entered, and regarded him for a moment with fiery red eyes before saying, "Nay, master Rinnis, he be a loth'ling. 'Sbad as the chaos-spawn, I say." "Not a problem," said the barman, "at least the loth-spawn don't go out of their way to cause trouble, now, do ye?" As he approached the bar, Vriskath heard the girl mumble, "Aye, but they cause trouble all th' same." Ignoring the remark, Vriskath dropped a pair of silver coins on the bar. "A meal an' a room fer one night," he said, "and don't ye complain bout th' silver 'cause ye ain't a baatezu. This chit might, but watch me care." The barman nodded with a grin, and the tiefling girl glared at him as he took a seat a few feet away from her. The food arrived, and Vriskath for his hunger could not complain, though it was barely more than standard iron rations presented on a plate with a slice of unidentifiable meat. Though not quite the best he had ever had, it was somewhat better than the rations he had been consuming for the past few days. "Where would I be able to find a man called Liross?" asked Vriskath as he finished his meal. "Business reasons," he added. "Liross the weapon trader or Liross the mercenary broker?" asked the barman. "One an' the same," mumbled the tiefling girl. "Ah, yes, Liross," said the barman with another grin. "Ya can find him just past the first gate. If ya want, I'll have a guide for ya waitin' in the mornin'. Ya lookin' for work? Ya don't look like a weapon dealer, 'cause ya only got one sword." "It's to do with work," replied Vriskath as he stood and made for the stairs. "Then ya be careful," called the barman. "Chant goes that he's got links with the tanar'ri." I know, thought Vriskath. That's why I'm here. * * * The murky twilight of the Avalas dawn saw a jackal-eared tiefling slip through the first gate of Ar'sith'kla, making his way through the sleepy shadows to his quarry's residence. Battlecries and clashing steel rang steadily louder as a cube loomed closer overhead, and the residents of Ar'sith'kla's foulburgh were streaming into the fortress proper, and the low humming from within the walls increased in volume as well. Several glowing signs with changing numbers counted down to the imminent collision, hovering over the throngs of life pouring into the city. The iron keep, to Vriskath's amazement, had begun to move several minutes ago, smoke, steam and dust rising from beneath it as it gradually descended to the level of the walls, a rumbling beneath the ground seemingly indicating that it had buried itself. The walls themselves began to move, extending upward and arcing in a dome over their respective circles of protection, the middlemost being sealed first. The second wall had begun to rise and curve with metallic groans as Vriskath reached the house of Liross, in a part of the city away from the crowds. Dim lights in the small, grimy windows indicated that the inhabitant or inhabitants of the house were awake, removing the possibility of a quick assassination. Vriskath waited outside, unable to listen for any sounds inside for all the noise around him. He could hear the second wall producing shorter and shorter groaning notes, until a final screech announced the completion of the dome. The outer wall began its ascent, and the cube above loomed even closer. Vriskath did not want to be outside when the cubes collided, regardless of the protection offered by the dome. He knocked on the iron-bound wooden door of Liross' home. Silence. He knocked again. The door was opened by a strikingly beautiful young human woman of about nineteen with raven hair and green eyes. Vriskath was taken slightly aback, though he composed himself quickly. "What is it?" the young woman asked. "Are you a friend of father's?" "Nah, I ain't, but -" "Come in, anyway," she said, cutting him off and ushering him into a small entry room. "It's not going to be safe out there once the cube hits." "Who is it, Em?" called a man's voice from the next room. "A visitor, father. A tiefling. I let him in so he won't be hit by debris outside." She led Vriskath into a slightly larger dining room. The portly man at the table, sipping some sort of hot liquid from a chipped mug looked up as Vriskath entered the room. "I don't recognise you," he said, "but that doesn't matter right now. Good that you're inside rather than out there." "Ye're Liross, the trader?" asked Vriskath, with a note of confusion in his voice. This man and his daughter seemed to be a little too friendly for residents of Acheron. "Aye, I am. Business, I presume? That can wait 'till later, after the collision. That one there," he nodded at the girl, "is Emma, my daugher. Em for short." Emma giggled. "He's confused." Liross smiled. "Look at that, ye are! Aye, we don't really belong in Acheron, but I'm stuck here since I signed a contract with some berk who turned out to be a baatezu in disguise." "You work with the tanar'ri?" asked Vriskath, his sword-hand quivering a little. He was reluctant to kill this man before his daughter, no matter how easily he could have done it by now. Liross grimaced. "Vicious rumour, that! I'd never work with a fiend, or any other lower planar creature - begging your pardon, sir. We're originally from Sylvania." "Arborea's gate-town?" asked Vriskath with a little disbelief. "That's on th' other side o' the Great Wheel!" "Quite literally," added Emma. "We're stuck here 'till the contract's fulfilled. I've never been to Sylvania." "Poor lass was born here," said Liross. "Her mother died about five cycles ago, hit by debris during a collision. She's got a heart o' gold, Em does, and I'd like for her to see Sylvania or even Arborea. She can't leave 'till I'm dead, of course." Vriskath was silent. This was wholly unexpected, and there were no grounds for him to kill this man beyond his agreement with Ulmshans. He'd side with the human over the fiend, given the choice. "Would you like a drink?" asked Emma as she walked to the pantry. "If you want one, you'd better speak up now. There's going to be a lot of shaking really soon. Take a seat." "I'll be fine," said Vriskath, taking the seat and dismissing the idea of killing Liross. His sword-hand trembled a little. "Thank ye fer yer hospitality," he said to Liross. "I don't know many humans who'll take a tiefer in, 'specially here in Acheron." "You're not from around here?" asked Liross. "I'm from Sigil. Came here fer business reasons. That's done now, but I've a mind ta have a jaunt 'round the Ring before headin' back." Vriskath knew that if he returned to Sigil without proof of having killed Liross, he would be hunted down. "Must be nice," said Emma as she took a seat at the table, sipping a mug of some hot liquid. "I've never been anywhere but this city. It's a little dull compared to what I've heard about the other planes." Vriskath gave a dry laugh. "Ye're missin' out on a lot, an' at th' same time, ye ain't missin' out on anythin'."

I think this is my best yet... Constructive criticism, please. :)

Cookie! Damnation! Yes, zombies fighting ninja wizards! With eye beams! ... I would pay to see a cat ninja wizard fighting zombies.

I think the actual state of berserk rage itself is wholly attainable. I have to try this sometime, but not on the fencing strip. :twisted: Rage increases strength and constitution for a short amount of time - using a conversion of rounds to real-time, about a minute and a half on average. The burst of strength makes some users comparable to a grizzly bear, and the period of fatigue after the rage disappears entirely with enough experience. I think it's actually quite accurate, except for the tremendous increase in strength (+4, becoming +6 later) considering the strength ratings of most barbarians in D&D (18, where normal human average is 10, black bears 19, brown bears 27). Hey, and give the big guy an axe...

Whatever it is, include ninjas. And wizards. NINJA WIZARDS! (Free cookie to anyone who gets the reference)

The neck looks like he's straining a little, but that might be what you're after. A relaxed neck really wouldn't have such prominent cartilage. Other than that, it's actually a pretty nice sig, even though I don't particularly like that kind of style.

Heh, thanks. I tried to add shading by using the muzzle flash as a lightsource as well as another lightsource from the right, but with the amount of pencilwork on the paper it couldn't be done any more without horrible smudges. :?

Inspired by playing a bit of Dawn of War, I drew a Dreadnought... Didn't use any reference so it's probably a little too tall compared to the normal squat chassis, but I think it's pretty good for the lack of reference.

Well, I learned most of my stuff gradually through my own practise... The only advice I can give you is to try something other than what everyone else is doing. Don't fall into the trap of making repetitive Runescape-themed pieces. Also, make art because you love it, not because you want some fast cash or fame. It helps to be in a less... mercenary mindset. (NOTE: This is in NO way intended to be a jab at sigmakers on this board)

To be honest, I wouldn't even rate it at all... There's little to no sense of depth, the colour scheme is sub-optimal, proportions are off, the text is horrible, the armour's worse than the text, and that's the wrong way to hold a bow. If you want to use that "let's see one of your sigs and compare" line on me, well...

Anyway, nice models. As said before, the suppressor needs to have a smaller diameter to be in proportion with the barrel. You're meaning the inner diameter right? I thought it was obvious enough, but yes, the inner diameter.

That's because most of it is :P. If you try to fire one on full-automatic in real life, it'll melt in about ten seconds. Anyway, nice models. As said before, the suppressor needs to have a smaller diameter to be in proportion with the barrel. I think the next gun you should model should be a Barret Light Fifty (.50cal sniper rifle), but that might be just my strange fascination with blasting holes through anything short of tank plating, and sometimes even that...

Pike off, you sack-slurping hypocrite. The ball is cool.

1,278 :) DIE, KITTY!

Pity you're going, since you're one of the minority here who can string a coherent sentence together. The flaming was enjoyable to read as well. Tsk. See you on MSN. Oh, and Sp4de - pike off, you misbegotten son of a motherless abortion of intelligence. You filthy, goat-spawned boil on humanity's physical appearance. I sorely hope that you find yourself drowning in a peat bog whilst being masticated by ravening bears.

"Ah, yes," the bard says, sitting up straight, "we haven't been properly introduced yet. I am Ardan Kell, musician and jack-of-all-trades. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you."