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Description
Grandfather was the hero of our village. Over the years, he'd defend us from the enemies that attacked us...never once did he ever complain. As he bleeded from the wounds and scars from these battles, he said that the wounds were sacred and that these were our medals of honor to our village.

Bearing the golden armor of Aegis and his blade, which was oddly named, "Scourge", the iron men clad in white fell one by one. With their horses slain and their banners burned to ash, Grandfather stood victorious on the battlefield. As the years passed, some local wenches would call Grandfather a mast-morterer, whatever that means, and would often give him strange looks...however, the cowards never dared give that look when Grandfather looked back. Such ungrateful cowards, to dare insult Grandfather in such a way after all that he's done for them. I oftentimes told Grandfather about these misfits and he'd just laugh and say that there'd be nothing to worry about. Strangely enough, those same wenches never dared to call out to Grandfather again. I guess he must've sat down with them and explained to them all of his great deeds so they must've changed their mind. That's only right, I believe...because Grandfather is a hero. He is my hero.

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This is a character from a story that I've sorta been writing lately. Anyways, this picture was sorta a character sketch for the narrator's grandfather, who was a Duke of a certain town. The grandson idolizes his grandfather but, as you can see, he's evil...anyways, the story kinda revolves around that idea.

As for the picture, it was originally done in pencil on paper. Then scanned and I used Photoshop to manipulate it to be sorta like an old photograph on a wooden table. Anyways, I hope you guys like!

Description
Grandfather was the hero of our village. Over the years, he'd defend us from the enemies that attacked us...never once did he ever complain. As he bleeded from the wounds and scars from these battles, he said that the wounds were sacred and that these were our medals of honor to our village.

Bearing the golden armor of Aegis and his blade, which was oddly named, "Scourge", the iron men clad in white fell one by one. With their horses slain and their banners burned to ash, Grandfather stood victorious on the battlefield. As the years passed, some local wenches would call Grandfather a mast-morterer, whatever that means, and would often give him strange looks...however, the cowards never dared give that look when Grandfather looked back. Such ungrateful cowards, to dare insult Grandfather in such a way after all that he's done for them. I oftentimes told Grandfather about these misfits and he'd just laugh and say that there'd be nothing to worry about. Strangely enough, those same wenches never dared to call out to Grandfather again. I guess he must've sat down with them and explained to them all of his great deeds so they must've changed their mind. That's only right, I believe...because Grandfather is a hero. He is my hero.

===

This is a character from a story that I've sorta been writing lately. Anyways, this picture was sorta a character sketch for the narrator's grandfather, who was a Duke of a certain town. The grandson idolizes his grandfather but, as you can see, he's evil...anyways, the story kinda revolves around that idea.

As for the picture, it was originally done in pencil on paper. Then scanned and I used Photoshop to manipulate it to be sorta like an old photograph on a wooden table. Anyways, I hope you guys like!