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The Mask, a sketch in charcoal

December 21st, 2014 by Rhoslyn mal Grenefeld

Circadi, Quintilis 1, 364


A stern woman with a young face that is more than half-disguised behind the sagging half-mask of a withered crone. The deep crevices and wrinkles of the mask cut a stark contrast with the youthful lips under its edges, the latter caught in a mechanically lifeless expression, taut at its sides, struggling to constrict a smile. Through the darkened holes under the mask’s brow crisp eyes the color of tropical ocean waters stare out, beautiful but troubled. The sketch is drawn without a backdrop or scene; the face of the subject is all which has been included. 


( Earl Marshall Karrina dul Valistovos )

A Warrior’s Repose, oil on canvas

December 20th, 2014 by Rhoslyn mal Grenefeld

Solisda, June 27, 364


A staggeringly tall Vavardian man, thick with muscle and riddled with the deep jags of scar tissue. Gripped between his hands is a massive great-ax, its edge notched and black stained. He is nude save a red cloth which whips about his middle, caught in the flux of a whipping breeze, one hip exposed. The cloth looks sure to flutter away at any moment. He stands at the pinnacle of a mountain of demonic corpses, drenched in virulent blood. The look on the man’s face is positively dark, much of it shadowed, emerald green eyes glowing hotly and dense beard in tangled stages of heavy growth.


( Rodrick dul Helayn  ) 

Aldair at the Fountis, a sketch in charcoal

December 20th, 2014 by Rhoslyn mal Grenefeld

Eldes, June 25, 364


The Fountis lies at the middle of a great landscape pregnant with shadow, it’s cobalt glow the only light in the murky black. The lined face of a man, Lithmorran in feature, darkly-haired, stands behind the diamond chalice. His countenance is set aglow with the light rising off a swirling broth of waters, straining to possess the cold blue of his eyes with life. It is not enough. His body lies in darkness, barely evidenced; the ragged edge of a once-fine cloak, notched blade at his side, patchwork over Vavardian silks, it all struggles with the eyes for recognition, too dark for focus upon the details. Even with the fountis at hand and his eyes drinking where his mouth cannot, the light cannot fulfill him.


( Sir Casimir Aldair at the Fountis Major )

The Three Cups, a sketch in charcoal

December 20th, 2014 by Rhoslyn mal Grenefeld

Votumas, June 14, 364


A tall man with caramel skin, straight of back, wavy blonde hair tied in a ponytail and body clad in various pieces of steel armor, a Knight’s sword at his hip. He stands at the center of the Three Cups tavern in the midst of a sizable bustle of activity; a Troubadour with ebony hair performs upon an uplifted tabor, caught in an expression of blissful mirth. People are dancing and drinking, captured in various stages of activity. There is an overturned mug on the floor and a blonde Lithmorran woman with a Physicians bag leaning wearily against the door frame. The only other person included is a red-faced, angry woman with blonde ringlets, fading into the backdrop while visibly attempting to do anything she can to draw attention to herself. No one is paying her any mind.


( Rylyn the Knight, Siva the Bard, Shaylei the Physician and Estrilda the Envious )

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