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Friday, July 06, 2007

For the Nth Time

Some People just don't know when to give up eh? lol

This is the concept art (which interestingly came after the miniature and not before. lol) for Chronos. (see Deathwing Chronicles Chapter 0 at the 101st galleria regulars blog)

Still using that first pose from the crappy sketch. No he won't be holding a matchstick on the finished product. that'll turn into a force staff. His face is supposed to be a bit old... maybe 40-60 ish... Chronos isn't really a combat oriented character. He's more of a seer/ advisor to Belial and the rest of the Deathwing. His main stregnth is his psyker abilities. Chronos was born blind but he percieves the world thru the warp. In Ryan's Deathwing Chronicles ( ;) ) he is a very powerful psyker. Hence the Choice to depict him igniting a small hellfire-ish thing.

I'm currently working on putting on the details. Don't try to make sense of his anatomy. It won't. lol Make sense that is. However I'm pleased with the overall bulk of the armor. That's the iconic appeal I was aiming for. Makes you feel the terminator armor is huge and heavy.

I'm off to work. Updates later. :D


Here's a little write up. Maybe it'll give you an idea of what Chronos is like:

The lights flickered and for a few moments the room was lit by the bluish glow emanating from the staff and the sword. When the lights came back the young warrior was stooping, sweat trickled from his forehead. His face was to the floor and both his arms strained heavily on the hilt of the sword that kept him upright.

“Again!” Boomed the voice of the more senior Librarian.

“I can’t breathe.” The younger one muttered under his breath.

Chronos was a picture of disapproval. He knew he was pushing the young man very hard but that did not grant him the right to feel tired. They were nearing their destination and the time for training is drawing to a close. He saw how the young man held on to the sword and relaxed his own stance. He was the kindly teacher once again.

“Very well… you may rest. Return here to the training room after 2 hours. We will begin again.” He hated having to do that but the young man needed rest.

When Chronos was alone in the training room he proceeded to the center and sat facing towards Holy Terra. He didn’t need the starmap, nor did he need to touch the power of the warp to do that. It was just something he knew by instinct.

He could sense the flow and ebb of life onboard the Defiance. He could see the servitors as they mindlessly moved to perform their tasks and he could hear the crew in his mind. The air was rife with anticipation as the ship drew closer to its target star system. Even with all these distractions the meditative trance came effortless. The training room vanished before him and in place of it were the familiar dark room and the throne.

“I have to thank you for this company Chronos. It is not a comfortable one, this throne of mine.” Came the rickety voice of a compassionate man in his twilight years.

“I am your servant my lord. It is a privilege of mine to keep you company.” Said Chronos in a subservient tone.

“You found him correct?” the voice was coming from a figure that sat on the throne.

“Yes my lord. Ichor IV. He… has led the people there into rebellion.” Chronos could not bring himself to state the casualties.

“I weep for my people Chronos. Chained as I am to this eternal prison of mine, you and your brothers are my only arm in these trying times. With you I can reach them. With you I can purge their malignant influence. My people suffer and your strength is what gives them hope.” The voice was pained and heavy with remorse.

“We are en route my lord. Rest assured he will get his due and the people will be restored.” Chronos answered with conviction.

“Good. Good my son. Tell me… tell me of your apprentice. Will he be… ready?” The figure on the throne inquired with keen interest.

“I will see to it that he is my lord.” Chronos looked up and even in the dark he could almost see the smile on the figure’s lips.

A sound came at the edge of hearing… as though near yet distant and in an moment the dark room and the man on the throne fled farther and farther until they were once again separated from him by the great sea of stars.

The doors to the training room parted to reveal the young apprentice.

“I am ready, brother.” Said the young man and in Chronos’ mind was a single thought.

You have to be…

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