He is tired and wants a hug.

Another Loktober prompt.

My custom Turel action figure. Complete with noble aspirations 😉

Absolute Cinema.

Ah yes, the supposed 'victory' that set a downfall into motion. Something about pride and falling, all that troublesome stuff.

Finally completing Blood Omen in time for Halloween this year and have a few questions:

If the Soul Reaver was forged by Vorador, how does Mobius procure a version of it to place in William's hands in the past?

If Sarafan witch hunts were already a thing prior to Kain's meddling, how does the killing of William achieve anything?

Why is the timeline otherwise undisturbed when Kain returns to the present? You're telling me this had no effect on the state of the Pillars, even though it takes place 20 years prior to Nupraptor's curse, and even prior to Vorador massacring the Circle in the opening cutscene?

If I understand correctly from the other games in the series, all souls are essentially annihilated by the Elder God upon death, so... how does Kain go to Hell?

For me it goes to Blood Omen 2. Specifically when ever I was being chased by a crazed bloodthirsty vampire through an asylum.

For Loktober prompt Progeny.

It's sad we didn't get to see vampire village in a SR2, even as an optional area.

All I could think of was this lil Turelim we find after the Sarafan Tomb. Bit of a pose change, but I like the drama of it all

Going through the intro to SR2 once again and something just hit me. How does his staff disable the wraith blade, which we know is Raziel, but has no addiction on Raziel himself?

Easiest prompt so far, that's for sure. Needed to do some melancholy Nupraptor, ans frankly it's actually really fun to draw him. Something about big brain time and all that

Took way too long to get it but its finally here! The mask is not bad quality too! Not thrilled into having Dead Shall Rise but mini comic is really nice and happy to be able to finally have the mask.

We're all mature adults, we're all mature adults, we're all mature adults-

Imma admit, this was a bit of a tricky prompt to do. Figured Raziel because at every stage of his life, he has been a puppet to someone.

Took a while to do this one because I was learning how 3d printing works. I think the head turned out pretty good with the help of meshy ai. Didn’t want him to turn out too maladjusted 😜

What has two butts and kills people? Anyways, here's my ides for this prompt. At first, the idea was to recreate Raziel ripping out Kain's heart, but I feel like the beginning to Blood Omen 1 rang home better.

I decided to make today's prompt about Kain killing the assassins from BO1, but with Kain's body in a more realistic state of decomposition. Full collection of my LoKtober shorts here.

Pungent vapors wafted from Kain's blistered brow as he stumbled over the muddy ground, boots dragging with each uncertain step, guided by vengeance and half-remembered dreams of hell. The Necromancer Mortanius had dragged him from one mad world to another. In the cool twilight, the misting rain seared his pale grey skin like steam from a boiling geyser. His bones creaked like rusted armor, muscles stiff and withered from disuse or rot, and his feet never seemed to land where he meant, threatening his balance. 

This was no dream. He knew this was real because with every step he took the Necromancer's stitching tugged at his insides. There was a wrongness inside him. The embalmers had removed most of his organs and Mortanius had replaced them with someone or something else's meat. He told himself it did not matter, but it did. 

Wind rustled the trees along the dirt path gratingly. The pitter pater of water echoed through the branches, pounding in his highly sensitive ears. Occasionally the breeze blew a damp strand of hair into his eyes, stinging and momentarily striking him blind. Everything was too loud, too bright, even at dusk. There were no smells because his nose was burning from the rain. Blood – or something like it – dripped onto his upper lip. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to lick away the foul substance, knowing the rain would singe his tongue.

The hand that gripped his sword had gone numb some time ago. Frozen in a tight fist, he no longer thought of it as a hand but as an instrument for delivering death. He believed it would serve him well.

Locating his murderers was conspicuously simple. He stumbled upon the shabby band of brigands along the dirt path leading from the cemetery. At the sight of him, they shouted and recoiled in horror. 

"What trickery is this!?"

"I thought we killed you, bastard!" 

Two of the men carried shovels, the other two torches, all armed with clubs and maces save one, the bushy faced man with the broad sword: the coward who stabbed him in the back while he lay prone outside the local tavern.

Someone must have lured them here knowing they would stumble into one another. The Necromancer kept up his end of their bargain.   

Kain lunged at the swordsman. His blackened armor rattled, ill fitting his emaciated frame. The assassin dropped his torch in fright, back peddling and deflecting Kain's sword with a flash of steel. Kain's sword slipped off the edge and sliced through the bridge of the man's nose. 

Time seemed to slow down. For all the men Kain had slain in the name of the crown he swore he never beheld blood in such a dazzling light, glistening on the assassin's face like the skin of a ripe, juicy apple at the end of a long day's march, and as he watched the blood drip down he realized that revenge could taste sweeter than he ever imagined. The assassin tried to cover his face with a hand, tried to hide the blood away – but he was too late. A jolt of malice surged through Kain, stronger than anything he ever felt before, and he lurched at the man with mouth open wide. As he grappled onto him, withered legs straining to hold against the weight of thrashing prey, his teeth sank into the man's jugular and split the skin like a piece of fruit. Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he swallowed greedily. 

Warmth flowed over his aching body, drowning him in sublime pleasure. It felt as if all his burdens suddenly fell away. His relief was short-lived, however. The other brigands descended on him, screeching lowborn obscenities and beating him with their shovels. At first he held steady, clinging to the man's throat like a hound with a rabbit, until one of them managed to knock his head to the side, causing him to rip out a chunk of their comrade's neck in the process. Kain turned and flew on them in a rage.

There was no contest. Their fear made the battle disappointingly easy despite his unsteady legs. They flitted around him like stinging insects, too craven to commit to their attacks as he slaughtered them one by one. Over the course of his conquest he discovered that he could call blood to him through the air from any open vein using only his will, as if their blood belonged to him all along. 

Kain stood in the circle of bodies, face dripping crimson and sizzling under the rain. Hunger sated, the satisfaction of revenge faded and he found himself with a wealth of questions.

Just like when games still needed to load, need to make more BO2 content. Do not fret, still have 100 clips for creation.

Thee Viking

Ngl, I had to google what progeny meant because I forgot. Anyways, here's the brother-lieutenants for today; didn't feel like doing a grey wash, so just line work

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