tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41431772970889382162024-02-19T00:25:04.657-08:00This are my drawing blarghNo one hacks well like the Blackwell.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.comBlogger205125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-17831336903920892702016-05-27T14:15:00.004-07:002016-05-27T14:35:36.682-07:00PRD Season Schedule 2016!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think this is the fastest I have cranked out a finished piece. I really struggled to come up with a concept this year, but in the end I was like, goddess of derby thunder???? Okay!!!Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-2669964826011470312016-05-18T13:52:00.003-07:002016-05-18T13:52:39.264-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Moar speedpaint!Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-6515762235914852212016-01-28T19:52:00.004-08:002016-01-28T19:52:42.745-08:00Paintin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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WIP for a thing. I'm tired and my eyes hurt. Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-69368942930843312862016-01-22T13:25:00.000-08:002016-01-22T13:25:10.040-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Speedpaint, part one of a collab project.<br /><br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-52369404175606333082016-01-14T08:03:00.006-08:002016-01-14T08:03:57.594-08:00Butterfly Kick<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Breaking down the stuff you want to learn can help. But whether it helps with the actual movement or just capturing a gesture... debatable.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-44737720564586579582015-12-10T11:20:00.002-08:002015-12-10T11:20:52.418-08:00Trevelyan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Let go of my life, Dragon Age.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-34207340767094776172015-11-10T09:12:00.001-08:002015-11-10T09:12:32.384-08:00Test Covers!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had the opportunity to create some test covers for Marvel a little while ago, and I'm only just now posting them because... I dunno, I'm sorta shy about them, I guess. I'm still waiting on feedback for the last two, so I'm expecting to make a couple more passes before they're finished for real. Ms. Marvel is on draft two. Almost there, maybe?Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-46708070925241473972015-11-10T09:07:00.002-08:002015-11-10T09:07:52.538-08:00Punishment Bangs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-15611938254515506132015-11-04T08:02:00.001-08:002015-11-04T08:02:06.092-08:00Open Drawing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is good exercise for your artbrain.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-20178881168807140742015-10-28T12:45:00.005-07:002015-10-28T12:45:55.838-07:00Practice, forever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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More RISD Museum sketches, classical dudes and a nip slip. Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-3422653604288217632015-10-20T13:26:00.002-07:002015-10-20T13:26:21.805-07:00Practice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Was in an art rut, so I finally used my free membership to the museum. This was fun, but my back sure felt those two hours or so. :/Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-74355183746667228492015-06-24T10:33:00.002-07:002015-06-24T10:33:20.769-07:00Furiosa, Finally!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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WITNESS ME!!!!<br /><br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-60331805100298940882015-06-21T09:18:00.002-07:002015-06-21T09:19:55.060-07:00Slow progress, fast cars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKG-YXCMslquMl9ULCFrYtzAexcZN6eptBDF1LRPSqRBbwPIv0xmgp3RUXo_p5e2a_PZbC93jnNdvGzcpVIwO5_NVUyBGZlsWVWW6K6ub8mEUa4jQgUPxDwva7qXuwC6G80gkkdqObL0/s1600/furiosa+wip3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKG-YXCMslquMl9ULCFrYtzAexcZN6eptBDF1LRPSqRBbwPIv0xmgp3RUXo_p5e2a_PZbC93jnNdvGzcpVIwO5_NVUyBGZlsWVWW6K6ub8mEUa4jQgUPxDwva7qXuwC6G80gkkdqObL0/s320/furiosa+wip3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
WIP, still... Leaving the characters for last because they are the easiest and most fun part. I am seriously like 90 percent done with the Gigahorse... It started off crummy, but towards the end it was pretty fun!Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-49893994266225106872015-06-20T12:54:00.002-07:002015-06-20T12:54:55.657-07:00WIP: Engine Spaghetti<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdgvex7aZskLTjT7R7U4IZfi6xGcoOsuAyDkQ6taOf-esJy2uFmeRhosPdgwJqfCYmXJk3dCFIIsumTlhxaItb_hyArOFgJa97YKwiSKPUO26s-obY6XHJ_oF33lORR0fASPPjJFu63H4/s1600/spogooter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdgvex7aZskLTjT7R7U4IZfi6xGcoOsuAyDkQ6taOf-esJy2uFmeRhosPdgwJqfCYmXJk3dCFIIsumTlhxaItb_hyArOFgJa97YKwiSKPUO26s-obY6XHJ_oF33lORR0fASPPjJFu63H4/s320/spogooter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Giggity giggity Gigahorse!Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-65047824756506378292015-06-16T13:18:00.001-07:002015-06-16T13:18:17.467-07:00Furiosa WAUGGGHHHH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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WIP! So excited to paint this right now. HNGGNNGNGGG<br /><br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-66851340273267618852015-06-05T11:20:00.000-07:002015-06-05T11:20:10.525-07:00Get Behind Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUPCbAUVlEbObm5HSwMm7W4JYhW7YbDVkfzkx5nR6AsNTrNEwAT3TBUydF9rv_0oeJw0iFIfVy3S0O523bx-y3r5Sb9_0LVDTwUBXkOFKJnHs0gsU2aCz1EEDBxhTgp0AZWlydKAh35I/s1600/pair+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUPCbAUVlEbObm5HSwMm7W4JYhW7YbDVkfzkx5nR6AsNTrNEwAT3TBUydF9rv_0oeJw0iFIfVy3S0O523bx-y3r5Sb9_0LVDTwUBXkOFKJnHs0gsU2aCz1EEDBxhTgp0AZWlydKAh35I/s320/pair+copy.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
So, this is supposed to be a warrior/bodyguard and a sorcerer, buuuut he came off looking a little like Siegfried and/or Roy. All we are missing is a tiger and a boatload of airbrush.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-88544956827251594362015-05-27T10:35:00.000-07:002015-05-27T10:35:21.452-07:00Josephine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJisLSkzICykzIH4WMP5k0lZhM2m6dsltldQOGhImhQiVjrkoz6L6bmSR7FlpKJ6hgRETZ6QWTIqprinjSzpzNgxeyotg8dKNhWI_a-zZZps7uhjgvZQAPsWtTID7MaRVKPVFz4CYJZo/s1600/josephine+sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJisLSkzICykzIH4WMP5k0lZhM2m6dsltldQOGhImhQiVjrkoz6L6bmSR7FlpKJ6hgRETZ6QWTIqprinjSzpzNgxeyotg8dKNhWI_a-zZZps7uhjgvZQAPsWtTID7MaRVKPVFz4CYJZo/s320/josephine+sm.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
Complete with Skyhold dust motes!<br /><br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-87102464715512767712015-05-26T07:14:00.003-07:002015-05-26T07:14:57.484-07:00Practice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8GF39BcR6lm2mLCRyLTm31pNad5xBWSJQN-vkDb5o_SwDrvJ502zK75XuYEylUjPKUr8toUo-3UgGpKGCIrd1UEcUzKeLfV5TqKuiKachX_w5u8jz5CYLwN44jAzOQLAoqG332x5Gjg/s1600/josephine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8GF39BcR6lm2mLCRyLTm31pNad5xBWSJQN-vkDb5o_SwDrvJ502zK75XuYEylUjPKUr8toUo-3UgGpKGCIrd1UEcUzKeLfV5TqKuiKachX_w5u8jz5CYLwN44jAzOQLAoqG332x5Gjg/s320/josephine.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
Sketch for a finished piece, featuring Josephine Montilyet from Dragon Age: Inquisition, the video game that ruined my life.<br />
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Got in some sketching at the Northeast Derby Convention. I love my beautiful city.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJCD7VINRJqQw22XdWHH2KVnGyLrLg0OFX87kMagjAP-RNKYBfKM2IRmhu8zgYckjVHBW9qWcpkUuXqfxRIVPlm1lOhwAbfSdeloHJKzxQ8XAxNylgZLkytx72v-XNW74i9-IS8UuZag/s1600/wam1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJCD7VINRJqQw22XdWHH2KVnGyLrLg0OFX87kMagjAP-RNKYBfKM2IRmhu8zgYckjVHBW9qWcpkUuXqfxRIVPlm1lOhwAbfSdeloHJKzxQ8XAxNylgZLkytx72v-XNW74i9-IS8UuZag/s320/wam1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Creepy baby bust from the Worcester Art Museum.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVDF2motwl1wojedaXnlBnWUz8g5XsyU2r-L8XQwqL6Cr-J7eluwVl9xDy0talhuX10vLJTTj5fK3qI3m5pXx7riOKD-cUG3WT1GIoEPaYqux-bhi0c4YOAsL3k0xAWAjHAkQLW1RJO4/s1600/wam2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVDF2motwl1wojedaXnlBnWUz8g5XsyU2r-L8XQwqL6Cr-J7eluwVl9xDy0talhuX10vLJTTj5fK3qI3m5pXx7riOKD-cUG3WT1GIoEPaYqux-bhi0c4YOAsL3k0xAWAjHAkQLW1RJO4/s320/wam2.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
The French Chapter House at the Worcester Art Museum. There was a choral concert going on that day while I was drawing; it was lovely. Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-64066848631281010252015-04-28T10:20:00.000-07:002015-04-28T10:20:08.309-07:00Fanart of SHAME<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QmGpiw0KsZ0NMNQV049aCQar7YjGicXQFv6ZQGiF35UvhwvR3GxqHy3VRbvTQP1r55vLX3CrZENzlNvMwQ25qNMnK6TVnytqwghAAJPmuOhFNYAcn6gxmqxo3At7jJzuv-jnOeUOs-Y/s1600/fenharel2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QmGpiw0KsZ0NMNQV049aCQar7YjGicXQFv6ZQGiF35UvhwvR3GxqHy3VRbvTQP1r55vLX3CrZENzlNvMwQ25qNMnK6TVnytqwghAAJPmuOhFNYAcn6gxmqxo3At7jJzuv-jnOeUOs-Y/s1600/fenharel2.jpg" height="320" width="231" /></a></div>
I have succumbed to the Dragon Age obsession and one of my new favorite things is making Solasmancers cry. I find the character prickly and irritating, but on the other hand, he's pretty hot sometimes, so I can totally see the appeal. Tragic love! Wooooeeeeeee...<br /><br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-2761964006877583522015-04-25T16:03:00.000-07:002015-04-25T16:03:03.937-07:00Quickie for a derby cover<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRNBzrOAbSRTsZwia3JTtVhJSwcVI_JibkHNPERlPpyrxK_mnoriTSfnuTeiaDRVJe3IZ369qDA96tpdkgpnm0ZWtCeHRkHLj73actY2H9UTRgy8RLIQGeJlLxWAccYeR_pRrm1cVT-k/s1600/motif+detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRNBzrOAbSRTsZwia3JTtVhJSwcVI_JibkHNPERlPpyrxK_mnoriTSfnuTeiaDRVJe3IZ369qDA96tpdkgpnm0ZWtCeHRkHLj73actY2H9UTRgy8RLIQGeJlLxWAccYeR_pRrm1cVT-k/s1600/motif+detail.jpg" height="320" width="244" /></a></div>
Here's an attractive lady to put on the cover of Motif's derby issue! You jump that apex, woman! By the way, I made that sunburst and additional decorative elements myself in a spectacularly bad decision regarding time management. EVERY LINE. Ugh. And I do it every time, too. You would think I'd make ONE sunburst, save it, and repurpose it from time to time. No, that would be a smart people decision. :/Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-17968716130607613412015-03-18T13:33:00.000-07:002015-03-18T13:33:19.105-07:00Legendary Idiot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4qSMqLyY5Qdudv06si_0p8hsUx3NSnTbI24y4rIUcMIXzs-H4gA7hYf3CqkK1V0SUzlDKxbQxMbGvrs5Ny1DYUepaiZFaZjWdajeecU4b1EucEI58OiAt2IsEdSOlHS2oZ93b15ivg0g/s1600/twigslavellan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4qSMqLyY5Qdudv06si_0p8hsUx3NSnTbI24y4rIUcMIXzs-H4gA7hYf3CqkK1V0SUzlDKxbQxMbGvrs5Ny1DYUepaiZFaZjWdajeecU4b1EucEI58OiAt2IsEdSOlHS2oZ93b15ivg0g/s1600/twigslavellan.jpg" height="320" width="297" /></a></div>
A quickie of my stupid Inquisitor. It ain't perfect, but neither is she. Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-86188816194580936732015-03-02T09:45:00.003-08:002015-03-02T09:45:46.709-08:00Sketchy McDrafterson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ9NXhq8NVDF_YbpsZDFH-MDq_SwGhE9KB0KNAoUYzW_OLne8mllfRfHIgAIqcb0zRe3RQLdEJDCc2-oy80C-aGhCK2oHfeJAptZWcuSUrOEinGZRXpBcjxNWow7AzX7aEv5bkSjdw2o8/s1600/carey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ9NXhq8NVDF_YbpsZDFH-MDq_SwGhE9KB0KNAoUYzW_OLne8mllfRfHIgAIqcb0zRe3RQLdEJDCc2-oy80C-aGhCK2oHfeJAptZWcuSUrOEinGZRXpBcjxNWow7AzX7aEv5bkSjdw2o8/s1600/carey1.jpg" height="146" width="320" /></a></div>
For the record, I hate this question. Makes me want to answer back, "Odd jobs, mostly. But I'll do a normal person, too, in a pinch."Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-65412511779952434692015-01-29T08:54:00.000-08:002015-01-29T08:54:18.675-08:00Dragon Age: Inquisition: Rejected by Cassandra<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Being a newbie at video game RPGs, I never knew you could get your heart broken by a video game character... I had to process my feelings the way any nerd does: with comics and fanfiction.</i> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeJ7giJfGiCkl9MICovUmFS36vZNrBN_GtnvSL7YpG8IVwri02ksKUxP_keiKP8bAtLJpSqKuUQpRoFrP-nbFTky9G5HXotKBIUvh5veNqoqr_Vjgkxuv9r20y6LujW4VTuh26mPi5kQ/s1600/cassrejection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeJ7giJfGiCkl9MICovUmFS36vZNrBN_GtnvSL7YpG8IVwri02ksKUxP_keiKP8bAtLJpSqKuUQpRoFrP-nbFTky9G5HXotKBIUvh5veNqoqr_Vjgkxuv9r20y6LujW4VTuh26mPi5kQ/s1600/cassrejection.jpg" height="128" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Twigs Lavellan stood on the ramparts for some time, feeling
the impact of the Seeker’s words. The wind ruffled her silky chestnut hair and
chilled her narrow elven shoulders. She had an inkling of Cassandra’s feelings
and had anticipated this outcome, but she hadn’t known it would hurt so much.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I could throw myself
from the battlements</i>, she mused. <i>But
then who would lead the Inquisition?</i> She could not consider such a selfish
act. <i>I may be a bumbling fool, but I am
the bumbling fool that Thedas needs right now.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the late afternoon grew colder, Twigs found her feet and
went back inside the keep, finding herself in Grand Enchanter Vivienne’s lofted
study. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Any chance you and I might…” the dainty elf’s lilting voice
stumbled through one of the most awkward romantic overtures Vivienne had ever
heard. Entertaining as it was to watch such an exquisitely formed idiot suffer
so nakedly in front of her, the Grand Enchanter had to put her out of her
misery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh darling, don’t be ridiculous. What use could you
possibly be to me?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Twigs rolled one of her slim brown ankles on the stairs
beating a hasty retreat from Madame De Fer’s study. Limping, she made her way
to Solas’s Fade-a-torium and addressed the elven mage. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’d like to know more about you, Solas,” she began, fixing
him with her sparkling amber eyes. This time she would not be so forward. She
sat down at the table.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perhaps you would like to know about my travels in the
Fade. Let me tell you about a spirit I met while in a village in the Free
Marches…” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Half an hour later, Twigs lifted her finely boned chin from
the table and shook her head. Had she fallen asleep?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m glad you find my stories so riveting, Inquisitor,”
Solas intoned reproachfully. “By your leave. I have work to do.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Feeling utterly dejected, Twigs ventured out into the
Frostbacks for a walk. Some solitude out in nature would do her good, she
thought. As she rounded a turn in the mountain path, a plaintive squealing cry
reached her gracefully pointed ears. Searching for the source of the sound, her
eyes lit upon a young nug on a mountain ledge about ten feet above her. The
poor animal was pacing and trying desperately to scramble back up the rock face
from whence it had fallen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I know what that’s like, little friend,” said Twigs
knowingly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With a soft voice, Twigs calmed the little nug as she hopped
from ledge to ledge to reach it. What was a treacherous distance for the small
animal was no trouble at all for the elf. She climbed back down one-handed,
cradling the nug in the crook of her slender arm. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In gratitude, the nug happily nuzzled her luminous skin,
smearing it with a mixture of snot and saliva. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>You</i> won’t step on
my heart, will you, little nug?” asked Twigs. It was a rhetorical question. The
nug would now follow its savior anywhere. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the following months, the Inquisitor would defect from
the army she had built, retreating to a cabin in the deep Fereldan woodlands. The
Inquisition defeated Corypheus and the archdemon, but not without significant
casualties. Their resources completely expended and forces all but decimated by
the end, the Inquisition was forced to disband. Had the legendary idiot Twigs
Lavellan stayed, things might have been different. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for the former leader of the Inquisition, she was last
seen buying nug feed in bulk from Fereldan merchants and wearing a jerkin with
three nugs and a moon emblazoned upon it. Accompanying her were sixteen nugs in
all sizes, including an enormous nug the size of a horse. Inquiries were made
as to the beautiful elf’s health and happiness; at this time she is “JUST FINE,
THANK YOU,” and single.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtelu0EuXpmCS7vSJ9k70z3lwMUPJ0atxTVAvgzllUiprkhGVfyNVVOKuIttUisJDqw38LvNi8w11PZGsynLBYZG7laU13OmL5Jhxw_9kG8ZLvBfuITa8e82L__JxuVcoQvmBcrTVHKYQ/s1600/nuglady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtelu0EuXpmCS7vSJ9k70z3lwMUPJ0atxTVAvgzllUiprkhGVfyNVVOKuIttUisJDqw38LvNi8w11PZGsynLBYZG7laU13OmL5Jhxw_9kG8ZLvBfuITa8e82L__JxuVcoQvmBcrTVHKYQ/s1600/nuglady.jpg" height="308" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-66933407451074460702015-01-20T09:30:00.002-08:002015-01-20T09:30:35.078-08:00Kronkette<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzptFBOkcslnp4jKKnG9XcnixmQ3pCoX36Gd-72e9ulbKax66uwCl-UKdAEmbcnCGrO49pSrOpv4sVG8rnVGPS-5AdNCF55XRu2J7nxyXMzzd47rOj2_laJmjXRb2DZJeASq5fRTPhn8/s1600/orcwoman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzptFBOkcslnp4jKKnG9XcnixmQ3pCoX36Gd-72e9ulbKax66uwCl-UKdAEmbcnCGrO49pSrOpv4sVG8rnVGPS-5AdNCF55XRu2J7nxyXMzzd47rOj2_laJmjXRb2DZJeASq5fRTPhn8/s1600/orcwoman.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
A quickie! Perhaps I'll work into it more at another time. I imagine that orc women run around topless just like the dude orcs. Who is to say their social conventions are the same as ours? I also like to believe that she's a very beautiful and kind orc with many suitors.Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4143177297088938216.post-1287564943915128712015-01-05T11:21:00.001-08:002015-01-05T11:21:53.750-08:00Dragon Age: Inquisition: So Beautiful, So Dumb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxbVl3uDQZU4KjoopUeP73Ycpcmp6rNV_LWiqJlav2N1cDWdGvMftrPjWFScP2OHI0j8y1K3nYsqOeWPDpmiefJBbNp55sEU985QIRUxNY2RTQuPSbV4LFqaJ5V2PZSZJVoj6C1QuFBA/s1600/inquisitor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxbVl3uDQZU4KjoopUeP73Ycpcmp6rNV_LWiqJlav2N1cDWdGvMftrPjWFScP2OHI0j8y1K3nYsqOeWPDpmiefJBbNp55sEU985QIRUxNY2RTQuPSbV4LFqaJ5V2PZSZJVoj6C1QuFBA/s1600/inquisitor.jpg" height="311" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>This is a fanfiction I wrote based on my experiences as a first-time open world RPG player. </b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How could this idiot
be the Herald of Andraste?</i> wonders Cassandra. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Maker must be testing us all. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From the moment Twigs Lavellan was apprehended on suspicion
of murdering the Divine Justinia, she’s been nothing but trouble. Unable to
provide a smidge of useful information, her lusciously lashed elf eyes have
registered an expression of barely contained panic that seemed appropriate to
her situation at the time. Since then, however, it has become apparent that
“deer-in-the-torchlight” is Lavellan’s default setting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Throughout the course of the quest, Twigs’s party leadership
has proven iffy at best, and one wonders if her ineptitude is willful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perhaps we should consult the map,” Cassandra suggests,
only to be shouted down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I KNOW the shard is around here SOMEWHERE. I FEEL it,”
insists the elf, her shapely backside sliding once more down the steep cliff
face she had tried to scale.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few minor skirmishes, Cassandra came to realize that
Lavellan could not possibly have murdered the Divine; indeed she could barely
defeat a garden variety highway bandit. Once, during a fight, Cassandra
observed the elf’s lithe limbs seemingly out of her control, propelling her in
wild circles while slashing at nothing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The fight is that way,” Solas directed, as the Herald ran
directly into the path of his freezing spell. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The only way to the last beacon is through the water,”
Cassandra points out, referring to the distant shapes barely visible through
the mist of the Fallow Mire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But I don’t WANNA go through the water!” whines the elf,
her full pink lips pouting with all their might. “If we go in the water, the
zombies come out!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We can dispatch the undead easily,” urges Cassandra, the
toe of her boot hovering above the surface of the brackish pool.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ennnhhhhh… But they gross me out!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Twigs Lavellan claims her ignorance of current political
strife is due to her loss of memory after the events of the conclave, but at
times it is exhausting to keep answering her questions. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Tell me about the Chantry.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Who are the Templars?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s an apostate?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How do I sell this crap I found?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s a gruffalo?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her perfect brows furrowed, the Herald surveys her
surroundings. Cassandra watches patiently as the elf is pulled toward the edge
of the scaffolding by an unseen force.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What is it, Herald?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There’s some kind of important item around here, I can FEEL
it.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is it over there?” Cassandra gestures toward a glowing
scroll on a piece of scaffold directly ahead. The boards in front of it have
fallen away to the ground several hundred feet below. It’s a treacherous gap,
but a decent standing long jump could get a person across.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That looks dangerous,” says the elf, and presses forward,
instantly joining the missing boards. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It looks like your journey has ended,” says Solas, his
voice full of regret.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cassandra and the remaining party members offered a prayer
for the departed Herald of Andraste. So beautiful. So, so dumb.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Alison Blackwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11180728862195052515noreply@blogger.com2