Sunday, March 05, 2006
Moonglade Of Dark Forest studies
A bunch of random sketches and more finished drawings within the world of Moonglade. You can find some other Moonglade drawings, from older posts, which have been updated with thumbnails and early sketches HERE and HERE.
Here's an excerpt from part of the story of Moonglade; just a quick bit.
Cold and merciless, the wind tore at Moonglade’s face, the frozen twilight air heavy in his lungs. He pressed up against the trunk of the tree and drew his cloak tightly around his body. The tree's roots encircled him, cradled him and he thought of Oshintina and the life he had left behind. The world seemed a barren place, long left abandoned. “Where was she now?”, he thought. Now when almost everything was lost.
In the distance he could make out the forms of figures; shadowy and misty, they called to him. His mind hazy with the spell of the petals, he clambered to arise from his safe spot in the enclosure of the tree. Was it his friends asking him to join them? He wondered briefly if he should have taken the stem of the plant as well, but the energy he could gain from it was more than enough reason to justify its injestion. Soon, when it’s initial effects had worn off, he would be able to go many hours without having to rest, sleep or eat. The times ahead called for precautions and this was the only one he knew.
The forms were getting closer and he could begin to make out more definition. These were not his friends...the voices were the same but the faces were different. The heads had gray masses where the features should be and though they spoke, there were no mouths. There were three of the creatures, and all seemed to radiate a cold, dull light. It’s bluish tint cast an eerie glow on Moonglade. Clouds of fog rolled in from the forest on both sides, moving hypnotically around the shadowy figures, entrancing Moonglade, making him dizzy. What was it they wanted?
He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts...the largest shape before him suddenly began to move forward, as if on an invisible cushion of air, gliding along, stopping only feet from the frozen Moonglade.
Frozen...with cold and with fear, unable to move; unable to speak.
A slender, delicate hand with long, snakelike fingers came forth from the middle being and in a tone not unlike that of his missing friend, Galsant, it told him:
“You are the one that the Ukrites fear, but your path lies a different way. Do not walk these woods once the sun retreats into the Western Hemisphere. You will find only death here.“