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Description
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Each strident step was taken without deliberation or hesitation as the nameless Hero strode up the slope of the intimidating mountainside. His resolve was as absolute as his trust in his faithful companions; and from their company, he drew strength.

As the guardian marched up the steep gradient of the jaunting mass, the memories of those he loved, and those he wished to protect gave him immeasurable reason to venture forth. His reason neigh a razor sharp rock could not cut, nor a swallowing chasm dissuade.
Unknown to the Hero was his fate. His march was either to his doom, or to a victory destined to be made into the kind of myth passed on from father to son by firelight. What he was sure of was that his life would be decided by the fluidity of his hands, and the foundation of honor and duty laid by his father. While his father taught him the art of producing blood; the hero’s greatest quality was a birthright from his mother. While training can hone instinct, and quicken synaptic response; the silent care from a truly remarkable woman taught him the meaning of love.

This was his onyx shield.

Long after the warden’s muscles failed and tendons were cut; his love for those in the valley summoned a secret strength within. When metal splintered, bare hands, fueled by loyalty, tore into evil’s flesh. The beast fell; and to the horror of his companions; as to did our Hero. As the brute’s heart stopped, the hero’s blood drained, and those who witnessed the battle returned to the valley; the hero was ushered into those hallowed halls of myth and legend. He would live in the flickering firelight of eternity as fathers spoke of the hero; whose heart burned brighter than any fire, and whose desire toppled the darkness of the mountain.

By: Mike Wilson

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Practice practice. All Photoshop CS2. I'll have some more practice up tomorrow-ish.

Happy Art-ing and new years.

Cheers,
Brennan.

Description
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Each strident step was taken without deliberation or hesitation as the nameless Hero strode up the slope of the intimidating mountainside. His resolve was as absolute as his trust in his faithful companions; and from their company, he drew strength.

As the guardian marched up the steep gradient of the jaunting mass, the memories of those he loved, and those he wished to protect gave him immeasurable reason to venture forth. His reason neigh a razor sharp rock could not cut, nor a swallowing chasm dissuade.
Unknown to the Hero was his fate. His march was either to his doom, or to a victory destined to be made into the kind of myth passed on from father to son by firelight. What he was sure of was that his life would be decided by the fluidity of his hands, and the foundation of honor and duty laid by his father. While his father taught him the art of producing blood; the hero’s greatest quality was a birthright from his mother. While training can hone instinct, and quicken synaptic response; the silent care from a truly remarkable woman taught him the meaning of love.

This was his onyx shield.

Long after the warden’s muscles failed and tendons were cut; his love for those in the valley summoned a secret strength within. When metal splintered, bare hands, fueled by loyalty, tore into evil’s flesh. The beast fell; and to the horror of his companions; as to did our Hero. As the brute’s heart stopped, the hero’s blood drained, and those who witnessed the battle returned to the valley; the hero was ushered into those hallowed halls of myth and legend. He would live in the flickering firelight of eternity as fathers spoke of the hero; whose heart burned brighter than any fire, and whose desire toppled the darkness of the mountain.

By: Mike Wilson

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Practice practice. All Photoshop CS2. I'll have some more practice up tomorrow-ish.

Happy Art-ing and new years.

Cheers,
Brennan.