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A Hearse with No Name

“Within these visions I drown once more
each day more violent than before
(I hear) Wolves howling at the door
and footsteps on an empty floor

Embraced by the sun's stygian light
My dreams come with open eyes

Loss of the blissful days of yore
The loss of all that we adore
Resounding to death's violent score
I saw it all, but there was more...”

- Soulfallen

Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing
Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing

The sounds were distorted, things shifted in and out, impossible to tell what sound was what, except that one noise, the sound of something being metal being dragged across metal floor. What was it?
Her body was numb, there was no sense of touch left in her. Something wet was under her.

Valdyra opened an eye. Her vision was colored red by the blood pouring from a wound in her head into her eye, she could barely see what was happening in front of her.

There were shadows all around her, shadows standing in the distance and shadows lying on the floor, bulky masses torn asunder by an horrible force. She knew where that force came from.
It laid in a pool of its own blood on the metal floor, armor and gadgets torn to shreds, blood coughing up from its mouth and eyes seeing only red.

The sound of metal stopped and the shadow closest to her placed a foot on the bulky shadow lying right next to her.
She could see its feet clearly, a razor, three toed sharp talon of metal, glistening in the light from the ceiling high above.
A pair of orange eyes came into view as the shadow kneeled down to observe her, glowing like lanterns in her murky, bloodsoaked vision.

“This one still lives.” the shadow said, a distant murmur in her ringing ears, but still audiable.

Bulky shadows approached, the rattle of weapons making itself known through the ringing noise and the beating of her own heart.

“Tenno? Can you here me? Answer!”

Lotus. Always clear. Always there. How? Why?

“No!” the shadow said, extending a black wing, or was it wearing a cloak, it was hard to tell. “I'm taking this one with me.”

“Tenno, you have to answer... Tenno!”

“Sleep.” the shadow whispered, kneeling down over her. There was a sting in her neck.

Then the shadows became an endless darkness. Yet those eyes remained, glowing like beacons in the darkness.

Was this... death?

Valdyra threw her eyes wide open. She blinked several times.
At first she thought she was blind, then she realized she was in a very dark room.
Small yellow lights blinked here and there in the dark.

She tried to move here arms, but they wouldn't budge. It took her a few moments to realize that she was tied to a flat surface, perhaps an upright stretcher of some kind with her entire body tied up with her arms and legs tight to her body.

The only thing she was able to move at all was her head, so she moved it a little to the left to look at the sides. Her head seared with a throbbing pain, pounding inside her skull. She gasped.

It felt like her head had been split in two. She recalled the shadows... who were they?
What had happened to her, who had done this and why?

“L... Lotus...?” she asked in the silence. Her voice was weak and raspy, every breath hurt.

There was no answer.

“Lo... Lotus...? Can you... hear me...?”

There was still no answer.

However there was a sound now, it came from somewhere from outside where she was.

Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing
Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing

A chill ran down her spine. She recognized that sound.

A door opened straight across the room she was in, a shadow was silhouetted in the door frame and then the lights came on:
A man was standing in the doorway, he was dressed in a dark grey armor with a torn black long coat underneath it, around his waist hanged a tattered belt with a revolver holstered on his right side.
His legs were entirely cybernetic, the resembled the legs of a MOA, but were of distinct Grineer design, with four long toes, three in front, two in the back brandishing razorsharp, jagged claws at the end of them.
His face was worn and scarred from many battles and he wore the jaw of a kubrow over his own jaw, a trophy from a kill in the past no doubt.
He had short black hair with grey strands in it and his eyes were brightly orange, in the light they seemed to glow with an excited glint.

“I thought I heard something... delightful.” his voice was odd, it had an accent she'd never heard from any Grineer before, but still raspy and hoarse.

He placed his hands on his back and approached her, his walk was a waddling one, most likely due to his cybernetic legs. It made Valdyra think of a chicken. Maybe she would have laughed if her head wasn't feeling like it was about to crack open. And if it wasn't for the distinct sound they made everytime a step was taken.

Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing
Clink-sssssshiiing, Clank-sssssshiiing

“Excuse the restraints.” the Grineer said, smiling at her. His teeth were uneven, some of them sharp. “But I don't make a habit of letting my prey wander around my ship on its own... they could break something.”

Valdyra kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to answer him.
She'd just noticed that he had the broken helmet of an Excalibur Warframe as right shoulder pad.
This Grineer was a killer of Tenno and from the looks of the Kubrow jaw and the necklace made out of teeth hanging around his neck, he clearly was someone who enjoyed hunting other living beings for sport.

The Grineer followed her gaze and dusted off the Excalibur helmet.

“Ah, yes. Hard not to admire.” he said with a crooked smile “I have many trophies that I am fond of, but this one is my personal favorite.”

Valdyra stared at him, she already felt an intense hatred for this Grineer, she wondered who this smug bastard was, he wasn't like any of the other Grineer she'd fought in the past, his face was that of someone else.

“Who... are you?” her voice left her lips in a weak whisper, too weak to speak properly. “You... don't look like... the others...”

Zet Kuur smiled and made an exaggerated and mocking bow before her.

“I could ask the same about you, my dear. I am from a far superior brood than the slackjawed maggots your kind slays on a daily basis. I am Sergeant Zet Kuur, loyal servant of the Twin Queens, sovereign rulers of the Grineer Empire. I welcome aboard my ship Uzrâtak or as some has taken to call it in recent memory...” he gave her a amused smile “...A Hearse with No Name.”

She didn't respond, she tried to give him a hateful glare in response, but the pain in her head made her wince instead.

Zet Kuur threw his head back and laughed harshly, he looked back at her with a smile on his face.

“I'm sorry for that little thing... I'm not that good with medical kits. But if it's hurting it means it's healing. I think.” he said “Did I hear you say something about Lotus? I'm afraid there's been a problem with comunications lately.”

He grinned spitefully at her, waving a small object in his hands.

“A signal jammer, the same kind used by The Grustrag Three... just in a better condition.” he explained. “When these darlings work as intended, they block all comunication signals and trackers within their range. You are invisible to the Lotus and fellow Tenno with this near you... and given your state before, they probably think you're dead.”

Valdyra felt ice cold inside, if this was the case, she was in worse trouble than assumed.

“Immensly useful, yet the higher ups don't place efforts on making large scale versions.” Kuur continued. “No no, bigger guns, bigger ships, even bigger guns on even bigger ships! Who needs to disrupt enemy communication when we have that?”

“W... what are you going to do to me?” Valdyra asked, hearing herself stutter a little, but tried to keep calm, hoping he hadn't noticed.

But Kuur did notice, because he looked very pleased with himself as he walked behind the stretcher she was tied to, doing something behind it.
The stretcher was then pushed forward and she heard Kuurs voice behind her.

“Oh just escorting you to a new location.” he said. “While we travel there I thought you'd might want to have a look around. It makes the time go faster.”

He chuckled as he pushed her through the door and out in a hallway. Valdyra guessed from the size of the hallway that Uzrâtak was a small vessel, possibly a modified transportation ship of some kind.
Kuur turned left and they entered a well lit room.

Valdyra breathed heavily.

The room was full of shelves, display monitors and cases. They were all filled with skulls, helmets, pieces of bone and exposed parts of the rooms walls had heads mounted on them.
It felt like a dagger was stabbed in her chest and twisted around as she recognized that many of the helmets were from different Warframes.
On the floor at her feet was the pelt of a Kubrow, laid out like a mat and in the corner of the room a large pod was standing, from its appearance is seemed to be a scavenged stasis pod, Kuur apparently slept among his trophies.

Kuur stopped the stretcher and walked in front of her, extending his arms and spinning around on the spot as if in a state of euphoria.

“Beautiful collection, wouldn't you say?” he smiled at her, that same wicked smile. “It's a shame I cannot add you to it as well.”

He leaned close to her face. She could see every scar on his face, feel his breath on her skin.
She was beginning to feel frightened of this man, hate and madness glowed in his eyes.

“Believe me, you will soon wish that you were dead and your helmet was placed among the rest here.” Kuur whispered, his eyes gleaming maliciously. He stepped back and observed her face. “I was wondering what to do with you at first, however when I reported it someone on Uranus took interest in taking a closer look at you.”

He studied Valdyra curiously.

“I guess I can see why... I've never seen a Tenno without their mask before...” he asked as he raised a hand and let a thin finger run down her cheek. “It's so strange to see you without your helmets... do all Tenno look like this, or is it just you...?”

He placed his hands behind his back and began walking in circles around Valdyra.

“And you talk too, so many are silence incarnate, so it's truly an amazing thing that there are those of you capable of speaking a word or two.” he paused. “Maybe all Tenno can speak and they simply won't... or perhaps something is muting the voices of your kind?”

“You have Tenno helmets on display, didn't you bother looking or listening closely when you murdered them!?” Valdyra snapped, he was making her very angry.

Kuur stood silent for a moment, till he shrugged and instead pointed at his many decorations.

“Murder is such a harsh way of putting it, do you murder when you kill a wild Kubrow? Does the Kubrow murder when they attack you? You came too close to their home, they had to defend it by hunting you... I have to defend myself when I hunt them.” he touched the jaw decoration on his chin “I “hunted” all of these with my own hands, in shall we say; my way.”

He stopped and looked up at the skull of a creature that reminded Valdyra of something she'd seen in an old history book, it looked like a shark, but more vicious.

“There was a very nasty sea creature that kept assaulting the underwater facilities on Uranus, I was sent there to deal with it.” Kuur told her. “Not what I usually do, but I accepted nonetheless. Vicious one, hard to get a good shot on. So we captured its spawn and killed them both when the mother came looking. Sadly it was far to big for my ship, so I kept the head of its spawn instead.”

Somehow that didn't surprise her at all and it disgusted her how callous he was.
When he turned to smirk at her she got a better look at the belt he had around his waist, she hadn't paid much attention to it, but when she avoided to look Kuur in the face her eyes fell on the gleaming belt buckle.
It was of Orokin make, its gold so tarnished and dirty that the symbol on it was difficult to discern, except when in the right light.

Kuur caught her gaze and patted the revolver in his holster.

“I wish I could tell you how I bravely entered the Void and wrestled that buckle from one of the guardians in those towers.” he answered her unasked question with a sigh “alas, it's only a memento from a little trip into one of those Derelict ships, one of the infested in there had it... for some reason.”


Kuur suddenly seemed to have thought of something and suddenly walked out of the room without another word, leaving Valdyra to stare at the skulls and helmets around her.
She was used to death, she'd been the direct cause of it many times, over and over again, but this room and its contents gave her an unsettling feeling.

It wasn't the fact that many of the helmets belonged to Tenno warriors or their companions, followes and allies, but the fact that they were all on display this way, with small labels next to them that she guessed detailed how this particular individual had met their end.
She closed her eyes and looked down, she didn't want to see this... some of the helmets were identical to those of people she had once known. She was certain none of them had met this Sergeant Kuur... but the thought that it could be the case made her stomach feel as it was full of ice.

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the Kubrow pelt. It had brown color with black stripes on its fur.
It must have been a noble creature when it was alive, running and fighting alongside its master, before being killed by this lowlife scum.

Right now she was glad she didn't have a Kubrow, but at the same time if she'd had one, maybe this wouldn't have happened... or the outcome would have been exactly the same.
She'd seen her friends have them as companions, constantly following them around, barking loudly and acting like most animals do, but with an unwavering loyalty to their masters.

She'd thought about having one of her own, but always reasoned that she wasn't fit to take care of another living being, indeed thinking of where she had been before all this had happened, she knew it was true.

When she left she had pondered taking a sentinel with her, a small machine that only required maintanance, but the only ones she'd ever used were borrowed, never her own.

But as she looked at the pelt at her feet, she was glad she had neither of these things... they wouldn't have been as lucky as her too be alive... or maybe they would have been the lucky ones...

“You know, that one and its master remains my proudest kill to date.”

Kuur had returned, he was holding Valdyra's satchel in his hands. He rubbed his clawed foot on the Kubrow pelts fur.

“It was a glorious hunt, we were at it for days. But I got them both in the end, the dog first.” he tapped a finger on the Excalibur helmet piece on his shoulder “then its master afterwards. Told you it was my favorite.”

What did you do, shoot them in the back?

Kuur picked something up from the satchel and showed it her, unwittingly made a grimace; it was her syringe he was holding.
Kuur himself was studying it curiously before looking her in the face.

“I'm certain the labcoats will ask these questions or figure it out themselves, but what exactly is this?” he asked, at the same time he also had picked up the vial with the blue liquid, holding it and the syringe together. “I wanted to take a sample of it, but I see this is the last one... hate to hear the labrats complain about the lack of a sample.”

So that's how many she had left... well it hardly mattered anymore.

Valdyra didn't answer, she just glared at him.
Kuur waited, then he sighed and put the vial and syringe back in the satchel.

“Now I'm dying of curiosity. Oh well, no big loss I guess.” he lamented with disappointment.

“Why don't you try it out then and see what happens?” Valdyra spitefully asked.

Kuur gave her an amused glanced and waved a finger across her face, just when she was about to bite it, because she figured things wouldn't get better, a beeping noise was heard from the gauntlet and Kuur pulled his hand back to take a look at something on it.

After observing what it was for a few seconds he turned to Valdyra again with a broad grin.

“It seems I was right, this did make the time just fly by. We're there in a few minutes.” he said, walked behind the stretcher again and moved her backwards. “So now the tour is over and I must take you back to the cargo hold.”

Back inside the room she had awoken in, Kuur stopped at the exact spot Valdyra first had been in, but now he pushed the front of the stretcher back, until Valdyra felt it hit something.
To her sides she now saw a lid, the door to a pod of some kind.

“That's what you are now after all, cargo, goods to be delivered.“ Kuur said before closing the lid to the pod, a small window in it let her see him outside as he locked it and left her there, walking out of the room, turning off the lights and looking back before the door closed. “But try not to think too much of it.”

Valdyra could hear his steps through the thick walls of the pod as they echoed down the hallway before finally fading, then what noise from the ships beeping and humming that could get through the pods walls was all that she could hear in the darkness, the small lights here and there the only thing she could see through the small window.

She breathed havily, trying not to panic. She thought it strange, but then again after seeing the trophy room and the feeling of helpnessness she felt right now. Indeed who wouldn't have been at least frightened of this situation would they too have been in it, even the hardiest of Tenno?

As much of a oppertunistic, backstabbing coward this Zet Kuur seemed to be, he was still holding her life in his hands and soon those hands would be Grineer scientist and who knows what would happen then?

As the thought hit her, the sound of rain drumming against a hard surface reached her ears and a few minutes later the ship started making loud noises, before it started shaking and then stopped altogether.

Steps outside the door signaled the return of Kuur and he entered the cargo hold, a long torn cape over his shoulders and a hood pulled over his face.
He walked over to a small controll panel and after pressing a few buttons a large hatch opened and he stepped outside, disappearing from view.

From what little Valdyra could see from the window, the outside appeared to have been struck by a terrible rainstorm, a flash of light was followed by a rumbling. She thought she was hearing waves through the rain, but wasn't sure.

After a while the stomping of marching feet came closer and then several Grineer lancers appeared in the hatchs opening, hurrying to the pod she was in.
She heard them do something to the bottom of the pod, before the entire pod was laid flat and carried out of the cargo hold.

One moment Valdyra found herself staring at the ceiling of the ship and then it was replaced by a grey sky ridden with storm clouds with heavy rain pouring down on the window.
For a while that was all she could see, feeling how she was carried through the rain, until the rain suddenly stopped and she stared up in a ceiling again.

The grineer carrying her halted and for a while they just seemed to be standing there.
She swore she was hearing bits of a conversation somewhere outside of the pod, one voice was Kuurs, the others she didn't recognize.

“This … interesting toys … quite fierce … weapons … done here.”

“Wait … important … wants to see you.”

“Must I? … if … then … way ...”

There was footsteps close to her pod and then the voice that was not Kuurs yelled:

“Take it below, hurry up!”

“Hold on a moment.”

Another unknown voice had made itself known, from the sound of it, whoever was speaking was standing right next to the pod, yet she couldn't see anyone besides the heads of the Grineer carrying her.

“It's still awake, here let me correct it.”

Valdyra suddenly smelled something in the air around here, she figured it was a gas of some kind, for what else could it be?
Without her helmet on there was no way for her to resist or lessen the effects of it.

Her head was feeling dizzy …
Everything was spinning before her eyes …
Not again …

And for the third time these past hours, Valdyra slipped into unconsciousness …
Warframe: Victim of Fate - Chapter III
I'll state right away that I am not 100% that I am pleased with this chapter, it mostly has to do with the portrayal of Zet Kuur, a character I've done as an audio log story on Youtube that simply went to far, now revamped heavily to fit in with the theme that I want him to go for.
At the end of it I want this to be a story, one of many in the Origin System were Warframe takes place, as such I sure there will be plenty of sour voices given both Kuurs return and what I intend the stories direction to go.

So I will ask that you provide feedback, as it's extremely vital to this particular chapter, as Zet Kuur will play a major role as an antagonist... heck Valdyra as a main protagonist might need some of that feedback too.

I've always tried to make the story as somewhat believable when in a fanfiction setting, I want it to seem as this either took place while main events happened off screen, containing the events between one character and their nemesis as an entirely unique story on their own.
My favorite example is the Soul Calibur fanfiction, where the main protagonist and antagonist sought for Soul Edge, however got in each others way and while the battle of the two swords Soul Edge and Soul Calibur raged elsewhere, the two characters fought each other far far away, the antagonist still coming off as a dangerous threat, regardless.

However, Warframe does not allow the exact same venture, as the lack of any basic lore, storyline, conflicts and characters present in almost any given medium are either present in the minor or not at all.
This leaves room for a lot of mistakes where I as a writer, find myself caught in between what is present in the world and what is not present in the world.
For example Valdyra's headphones with Cryoshell's Breakout (and Helloween!) playing does not exist and is never hinted towards having existed, the skyscrapers in the first chapter does not exist because something akin to it was never made in the game... which of course means that the delicious Dark Sector reference I made with the sewer doesn't exist either.

As such it makes it extremely difficult to write a plot that isn't underwhelming but not overwhelming either, making either one or several characters into a Mary Sue. I talked many times with a friend about Zet Kuurs style of killing enemies, his weapons of choice, to make him still appear as a threatening adversary, but so much that he comes off as being able to kill a Tenno while blinking (altough in that context it turns Tenno into Cannon Sues, always beating their enemies just because their Tenno).

It was this sort of thought process that drove me into making Kuur more of a character than just another fan made boss for the players to shug right through, however more of what his role will be later.
Regardless, writing this is not a dance on roses, I want to tell the story I want to tell, I try to follow what rules that have been set that I can, however when following every last bit and trying to mimick the games missions and make that into a storyline... seriously if some people find that interesting, great for them, but I find it to be quite dull. It can be done, but so many restrictions that limits the imagination... blergh.

Anyways, chapter III, I hope you enjoy!
As always it is named and quotes a song, this one is by the band Soulfallen, A Hearse With No Name:…

Chapter II:…

Warframe © Digital Extremes

Valdyra © :iconjowain92:
Killing in the Emperors name by Jowain92
Killing in the Emperors name
Solea slays bandits and I try out different versions of the same ENB, concluding that I will have to look long to find one I like.

Combined with wanting to do a cool image of Solea, I also wished to try out one different versions from the CinemaScope, the Realistic one is the one I've been using all this time, but has since then gotten tired of.
However the other versions don't sit well with me, some being overly red in certain lights and others darkening colors a whole lot.
The example is one above, Solea uses the Virtus Imperii retexture mod, which changes the color of the Penitus Oculatus tunic from red to blue, but due to the ENBs darker contrasts, the color is lost.

Oddly enough, this is enhances the color of the Champions Cudgel warhammer, making it a lot brighter than the rest of the items and surroudnings in the game.
I blame the vanilla texture of the weapon itself, if there isn't a mod already that changes that, I might have to edit it myself.

The search for an ENB that mixes fantasy with realism goes ever onward, but I have found some candidates...
Only a Champion may wield the Cudgel by Jowain92
Only a Champion may wield the Cudgel
Having :iconithildin-da: mention the difficulty of Fort Frostmoth reminded me of this image I took a while back, another example of trying out ENBs, this one with a grainy effect as well. While it made the game look really nice, some textures not so much, in this case the textures of The Champions Cudgel are very bright, contrasting pretty badly against everything else... perhaps when I have the chance I should try and darken them a little...
Despite this, I love the hammers design.

Regardless, Vaynith entered Fort Frostmoth and kicked General Carius back to The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, though from his state of mind he probably already was there XD

The actual fight didn't go down like this on my Xbox version of Skyrim, in fact Carius was chasing me through the entire fort with that blasted hammer and only by using a staff that conjured familiars and running in circles around him was I finally able to put that magnificent bastard to rest.

20th of Last Seed

She blinked. Darkness.
She blinked again. Still just darkness. Her back was numb. Everything was numb.

Vaynith slowly and painfully sat up in the darkness, feeling the weight of dirt and rocks rolling off her armor and clothes.
She felt stiff, how long had she been unconscious?

“Great... really great...”

She looked around, however wherever she had ended there was no source of light to be seen, apparantly she must have fallen very far down in the hole she'd accidentally had stepped on.
After moving her arms and legs where she sat to see if anything was broken she began digging in her backpack, she knew she had a small torch and a tinderbox around in it somewhere.

“Come on... ah here it is...”

A few moments later she held up the small torch in the darkness, its warm glow casting light upon the stone walls around her.

It was a large cave tunnel she'd fallen into, behind her was a solid wall now covered with rocks, infront an endless darkness.
As she glanced up she though she could see a black hole in the ceiling, presumably this was the hole she'd fallen through.
Vaynith got to her feet, brushing off small stones and dirt from herself, she heard a small crack as she stretched her back, she really had been stil for a while, it was a pure miracle she hadn't broken any bones.
What she could feel though were bruises here and there and she'd be surprised if she'd somehow managed to avoid getting any of that, her armor had protected her from the worst at least. Scraped knees and bruises on her skin she'd survive, but had she woken up with a broken leg or arm, things might have been much worse.

Carefully stepping through the tunnel, with only the torches weak light to guide her, Vaynith began to ransack her brain for any memories of the mentioning of caverns underneath Moesring, but couldn't find anything that ringed a bell.
Of course there was bound to exists networks of caves underneath this mountain, she'd heard plenty of tales about explorers who had found unmarked caverns and even ruins that had led them to treasure... or dreadful horrors followed by death...

Vaynith shuddered and turned around to stared into the darkness behind her, then smacked herself on the head. There was a deadend behind her, what could possibly sneak up on her from there?
But at present she didn't want to take chances, so from time to time as she walked onward she would turn around to look behind her.

For sometime she wandered what felt like an eternity and the torch was beginning to go out, she started to walk faster until...

She stopped.

The was a nord ruin infront of her.
She blinked and looked again; yes it was indeed a nordic ruin, here in the depths beneath Mount Moesring.

“Well... it's not really that big of a surprise...”

The torch was losing its light, Vaynith glanced around and spotted to her releif a few sconces the ruins entrance, at least two of them still had enough wood to be ignited.

The entrace to the ruin lit up, enough to reveal that the way Vaynith had come was the only way out and the only way to go now was inside the ruin.
She hesitated, she didn't want to go inside without a working torch, however to her luck she found not only one but several lying in a neat pile, ready for use.

When she now had one torch in her hand and a few more in her backpack she halted for a moment.

The firewood in the sconces looked recent and these torches didn't arrange themselves, was there someone down here?
But how was that possible?

She carefully stepped forward to the ruins ancient door, a massive thing made of metal with a strange emblem on it. After studying it for a moment she was certain it was a creature of some kind... maybe it was a dragon? The nords had stories of dragons didn't they?

Vaynith felt on the door. It wasn't looked, but it was heavy.
She put her shoulder on the door and pushed as hard as she could, the door began to slowly move and soon a big enough opening was made for her to slip through.
With sweat running down her face Vaynith looked to see where she was.

She was standing in a small hallway, with a big wooden double door at the end. Around the walls were pictures etched into the stone.
They seem to depict men and women in robes, with people on each side carrying something, above their heads there was a creature of some kind.
Her grandmother had spoken of these halls, stating that they were meant to describe a story of some kind, perhaps the one being buried.

As Vaynith began to study the pictures she began to understand a little of what they were showing, from what she'd learned from her grandmother.
Whoever was buried here was someone of great power, a king? No, a priest maybe?

The story that was being told wasn't a good one.
The priest had been the servant of some great beings, a man was shown kneeling for this being, a dragon?
Then another man, dressed like the priest was shown standing on the skeletal parts of said creature. Did they kill it?
The priest stood side by side with four others, following a fifth, the one who killed the dragon. Their faces looked different somehow, alien.

Wait, they were wearing masks, that's why all the faces looked so strange!
However there was a visible difference between the mask the man who had knelt before the dragon and the masks worn by these other priests. Had they switched masks?
So if the masks they had before represented their service to the dragons... who did these masks represent?

There was a great battle being raged, the priest was shown fighting another priest, they could be told apart from their masks, one served the dragons, the other... something else.
A horrifying but exquisite scultured part of the walls showed a mass of the lands being torn asunder by the leader of the five priests in his conflict with another.

Vaynith gasped. Not only because of the sheer beauty this piece was but also because she now understood it's meaning, she'd heard the Skaal had a tale like this... the priest tearing the land apart was called The Tratior and the one who fought him was called The Guardian.

Was this the tomb of one of them?

She smacked herself on the head. She knew this tale, yet she couldn't remember it. She had heard the story before... but where?
For some reason she knew this was important, but couldn't figure out why...

Disgruntled she turned around and the question of who's tomb it was revealed itself in the wall opposite.
It showed one of the priests, not The Traitor or The Guardian, but one of the others. It was also the last as shown by the two empty walls following this one before the large door. It seemed to have been hastly made, a chisel and hammer covered in webs was lying close to the image on the floor.

The priest in the image appeared to be running, not from the other priests or their dragon masters, but something else, something made entirely of eyes and what appeared to be tentacles...

She shuddered, that image appeared familiar too, but she wasn't sure from where.

Seeing as there was nothing left to learn from these walls, other that the one buried here had been a follower of  The Traitor and that he for some reason had been forced to flee an unknown horror, Vaynith approached the large wooden double door at the end of the hall.

She drew her sword with a sense of alarm, the one doors was slightly open. Someone had been here, recently too... maybe they were still here.
With a push one of the doors slowly opened, revealing only deep darkness and defeaning silence within.
Shining the torch through the darkness, Vaynith noticed that behind the double door someone had placed planks and wooden beams, all who had fallen down.
It appeared that someone had tried to block these doors, perhaps in an effort to keep something out.

Slowly stepping inside Vaynith saw the reason for the badly made blockade; whoever had come here first had appantly broken the previous, intentionally built wooden bars that were meant to keep the door shut from inside.
Question was, who wanted to keep others out so badly?

The image of the many eyed, tentacled mass came to mind.

On an impulse Vaynith closed the large door quietly and then turned to see if there was a source of light she could use to help navigating the room better.
There were candles here, quite a few in fact. On the floor was also at least one sconce filled with firewood, ready for usage. Soon the small room was full of light, allowing Vaynith to turn off her torch and begin to investigate where she was now.

It came as no surprise to her that this was a tomb, though for a nord ruin to be hidden under the mountain like this she'd expected it to be much larger and grander than this one room.
The sarcophagus was located at the far end of the room, in front of an altar that was covered in small tools, pieces of paper and a large cloth covering the bottom
There were a few benches in front of the altar and a few ancient blue nord banners in the ceiling.

As Vaynith approached, picking up a candle stick and lighting more candles along the way, she noticed that the sarcophagus' lid was leaning on a nearby pillar and that the sarcophagus itself was covered with what looked like ice and lot of it.
There appeared to be something frozen inside...

She stopped dead in her tracks. There was a person in the sarcophagus!

Quickly stepping up to the sarcophagus to investigate she saw a man lying under the ice, he was wearing what looked like ragged black robes and his long hair was pitch black.
He was lying straight with his arms to his sides, the ice was fairly thin for his features to be visible, he was a man close to his thirties and bore quite a few scars on his face.

The only part of his body that wasn't frozen in the ice was a metal object on his chest that seemed to have been dug out from the ice, avoiding to uncover anything else.
It appeared to be a harness of som kind, with a circular shape and a deep cavity for something round to be placed in.
When observed closer it looked like something had already been placed there and it had left black marks of soot and ash.

Soot and ash?

Had someone placed a fire in his chest?
Looking closer she also noticed a several of sharp clamps around the edge of the cavity, she guessed their purpose was to keep whatever was meant to be placed inside the harness in place. Once there it wouldn't be easy to remove.
Whatever this it was.

Vaynith raised the candle higher and looked around. There was something very strange about this place, it felt as if something had been here and now had been removed. What was this feeling?
Someone had been here before her, might have been days or even weeks ago, but still recet enough.
Whoever it was had been doing things to the man frozen in the sarcophagus and had then taken something from the tomb and left.

The notes on the table didn't seem to hold any information about who it might have been, except...
She brushed off some dust of one of the notes.
It was a poorly drawn image of a circle of some kind and another of what appeared to be the harness on the frozen mans chest.
The text was clearly written randomly, some were crossed over with newer text underneath:

“The Heart Stone must be placed within the chest of the subject, if all is done correctly then the subject will awaken from their slumber or death in this case.”

“I've successfully managed to bring the subjects soul back from the afterlife, with the right magics it is bound to his very bones... protects the soul from being trapped, but will eternally be connected to the bones, never being able to move on... unless destroyed I suppose.”

“The Heart Stone is the spark. Without it, the body will decay. I'm tempted to let that happen and see what happens, a skeleton with a mind of its own?
But in the end hardly an interesting effort.”

“The clamps should prevent anyone from forcefully remove the stone.”

“In hindsight the clamps were probably a bad idea, how am I to stop him from tearing me apart if I put the stone back now?
Nevermind then, he can sleep forever now, stuck in ice, body and soul. Serves the ungrateful fool right.”

Vaynith put the notes down and glanced at the man in the sarcophaugs.
So he had been put through some experiments involving a... Heart Stone? What in Azura's name was that?
Pondering for a moment, she decided that it wasn't right to leave someone like this, if the notes were correct, then this person was stuck here forever... was it for the best?

As she thought of this, Vaynith began to search the tomb for any clues. What did a Heart Stone look like exactly?
When she was about to give up her foot suddenly hit something lying among some broken pots:
It was a small metal chest, one that felt hot to the touch when she picked it up. She walked back to the altar and opened it.

So this was a Heart Stone?
It seemed to be the object in question, a round rough stone, similar to a big chunk of coal that seemed to glow with an fire from within.
Holding it in her hands she felt a warmth spread through her, she felt powerful holding this stone for some reason.

Vaynith approached the sarcophagus. Was this really such a good idea?
What would happen when she placed the stone in the harness? Would the man awaken and attack her.
After thinking about this for a few moments, Vaynith came to the decision that if the man attacked her she would chop his head off. That would stop him from trying anything... she hoped.

She carefully placed the stone within the cavity of the harness, then pushed the many clamps around into it, their sharp spikes digging into the stone with a clicking noise. She felt on one of them; it wouldn't budge, they were permanently stuck like this.
After all the clamps had been fastened on the stone she took a small step back and waited.

The stone had been glowing dimly when she was holding it, now it began glowing stonger and it seemed to pulsate... almost like a heart beating.
Small glowing veins began to appear on the mans face, visible through the thin ice and she was certain his eyes had begun to move.
There was a crackling noise and without warning the mans hand flew up, punching through the thin ice, followed by the man sitting straight up, the ice falling of him in small bits, eyes wide open.

“WHERE ARE YOU!?” he screamed at the top of his lungs, spinning around to give Vaynith a hateful stare, trying to get up from the sarcophagus.

With a frightened shriek Vaynith fled backwards, drawing her sword.

“Stand still you---augh!” the man yelled, stepping up from his resting place before getting one of his frozen feet stuck at the edge of the sarcophagus, causing him to fall to the floor with a loud smack.

Vaynith carefully apppoached the man as he laid sprawled on the floor, a large clump of ice still stuck on his left foot.
There was a grumbling from him, it sounded like he was cursing in another language.

“Duraal iiz... Zu'u irkbaan hi...”

He pushed himself up in a kneeling position and gave Vaynith another glare. His right eye was bright blue, but his left eye was glowing orange, almost as if he had a fire in it... was this the result of the Heart Stone?

“Gloat all you want elf, but when my powers return I will crush you.” he said, speaking through his teeth with a hiss.

Vaynith took a harder grip on her swords handle.

“Bold words for someone who was at my mercy a few moments ago!” she spat out, not sure if it was a good response.

The man scoffed at her.

“Yes, maybe you should have killed me then. Didn't he tell you not to put this cursed stone in my chest?” he pointed a thumb at the Heart Stone “Or were curious to see what I would do once I was awake?”

Vaynith paused, was he talking about the person who had done this too him?

“No one sent me here... I fell down here.” she replied, perhaps telling the truth would prevent a confrontation?

The man shook his left foot, the ice fell off and he tried to stand up, stumbling forward on unsteady legs he took a firm grip around the altar.
He studied her suspiciously.

“You fell into my tomb?” he repeated slowly “There's no way for anyone to fall in here... we're far below the Moesring Mountains.”

“The someone must have digging into it, because I fell down a hole.” Vaynith pointed to the tombs entrance “I walked through a pretty long cave corridor before finally getting here.”

The man crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“What an hefhah...” he muttered “He could find my room, but not the way in or out?”

Vaynith looked around, was this strange man alright in the head? This tomb wasn't very well hidden once you were inside the cave under the mountain...

The man saw her confusion and shrugged, he slowly began walking towards one of the walls in the tomb. While he was moving his hand behind one of the pillars he threw a cocky glance at her.

“If you're going to visit more of our final resting places, you should know that there are many secrets not visible at first.” he said and pulled something behind the pillar.

There was a scraping sound and the wall he was standing in front of slid uppwards, revealing a tunnel behind it.
Vaynith felt annoyed by this mans attitude, but at least he didn't seem intend on killing her anymore.
The man took one of the light candles and disapperad down the tunnel, leaving Vaynith alone in the tomb.

“Hey! Hold it!” she yelled when she realized that he might not be coming back and rushed after him, sword still in hand.

The tunnel wasn't long, it twisted to the side and opened up to another room, where the man appeared to be digging through a large chest next to a stone bed.
Looking around it was clear someone had lived here recently, the furniture was nordic, but there were clear signs that it had been put to use. There was another banner hanging in the shadows, however it appeared to be a recent addition.

The table was full of papers and burned out candles, but what caught Vayniths immediate attention was the dirty mask at the end of the table... it looked familiar...

The man growled in dismay and stood up, holding an ancient nord sword in his hands, he approached a pedistal of some kind and investigated it before turning around to look at Vaynith.

“He's taken it with him. Tafiir firok!” he exclaimed, he fastened the sword to his belt and quickly walked to the table, picking up the mask lying on it. “At least he didn't take my mask... if he had...”

He turned the mask around in his hands, before looking up with a curious look, as Vaynith raised her sword towards him.
She knew who he was now. And she felt terrified.

“You're one of the priests that followed the Traitor!” she yelled, her hands were shaking.

“Traitor...?” the man seemed confused at first, then a light of understanding shone in his eyes. “Ah... yes...”

He suddenly looked very angry. “Miraak.”

Vaynith took a harder grip on her sword with both hands.

“You know him? Is he the Traitor!?” she said, her voice was loud now, she didn't know why she was so scared of this man now.

Appearantly the man noticed this, for he put the mask down on the table and raised his hands in a gesture of surrendering.

“I could kill you with a word if I wanted to. Lower the sword and I'll tell you who I am, besides being one of Miraak's “Acolytes”...” he said, shrugging.

Vaynith lowered her blade a little, but still eyed the man carefully.
She was amazed over the fact that she was looking at a man who was over thousands of years old, one who had seen the ancient days of Solstheim.
But she also knew that he could be very dangerous, she wanted to know who Miraak was, but what should she do with this man?

Having crossed his arms again, the man stared at her with a bored look in his eyes.

“I'll have you know I'm above the mindless killing of pitiful creatures, so long as they keep out of my way.” he bluntly stated. “I won't go on a murderous rampage the moment I set my foot outside this tomb. Because leaving this place I will.” he gave her a daring smile “come and stop me if you can.”

Vaynith lowered her blade now, until she finally sheathed it. He was right, it didn't take a genious to tell that he would be extremly difficult to bring down as he was now.
For the matter if he wanted to kill her, he would have done so without telling her why.

Nodding at her decision the man lowered his arms, putting them on his back instead and started walking back and forth.

“I guess we shall start with my name. I had one before I served the dragons but it doesn't matter anymore. To you I am Kiihus.” he said it with pride, but when he got no reaction fromVaynith he frowned. “It means “Ashen” in the tongue of dragons.”

Vaynith could tell he was expecting her to react with either surprise or amazement, but she didn't know anything about the Dragons, their history with the Nords of Skyrim or the language they used.
He might as well have called himself the last dwemer and she'd still wouldn't have understood a thing.

“You don't look very ashen. Why did they call you that?” she then asked.

Kiihus stared at her.

“I like fire spells.” he finally replied after a few moments of akward silence. “In any case I was born and raised here on Solstheim, I began serving the dragons when I was still becoming a man.”

He lifted his mask from the table and held it next to his face. Now that she looked closer, Vaynith noticed that it appeared to have rusted somewhat.

“I received this mask when I reached the higher echelons of power as a priest for the dragons, our gods. It was a wonderous moment for me, but I will admit that the sight of Bromunjaar was the one thing that took my breath away.” he continued “then I met Miraak.”

Carefully fastened his mask on his belt before carelessly going through the papers on the table.

“Miraak was something else, he was powerful, cunning. Ambitious. He had a desire for knowledge and power that was... contagious to say the least.” he gave her a crooked smile “but it was more than that. He was more ambitious and hungry for power than any of us ever could be. When it became clear... it made so much sense.”

“What did?” Vaynith asked holding her breath.

“He was different from everyone else. The dragons called it, Dovahkiin.” Kiihus answered “everyone else called it Dragonborn, because that's the way the assume it meant.”

“Assume it meant? What do you mean? You name means ashen, so why doesn't Dovahkiin mean Dragonborn?” Vaynith asked him, she was beginning to wonder if she'd needed to learn the whole language he was using from letter to letter.

“Oh it does. But not when it was first spoken.” Kiihus answered, holding up three fingers. “You can say it as Dovah Kiin, which means Dragon Born or as our masters said it; Dov Ah Kiin, Dragonkind Hunter Born. One who hunts his own kind.
Miraak was a man born with the soul of a dragon, as such he had it much easier to learn the language of the dragons, learn words of the Thu'um and shout to the skies as if he as if he was a dragon himself. It was in his soul, his true nature to do so.”

His face turned grim.

“But that was nothing to what he could do when slaying a dragon. He could devour the very soul of any dragon he slayed.”

Vaynith felt a chill run down her spine; Miraak, the one who caused the people of Solstheim to build shrines for him, could devour the souls of dragons?

“But... just the souls of dragons... right?” she asked, stuttering.

Kiihus gave her a fiendish smile.

“Don't worry, why would he need a pitiful soul like yours when he could have that of his own gods?” he answered. “When he revealed what he could do, many joined him. Ahzidal, Dukaan and Zahkriisos were the first priests to join him, becoming his acolytes and most powerful servants.
I was the last to join as the fourth.”

He sighed deeply.

“It didn't last as long as I had hoped. Miraak slew many dragons, they came to Solstheim and razed his temple. Miraak was slain in battle by the Dragon Priest Vahlok and those of us that survived were shut into these tombs as punishment for our betrayal.” Kiihus finished.

Vaynith thought that sounded accurate, then she rememberd the sculptured walls on the way in and she slammed a fist in the table.

“You're lying.” she said to him, giving him a hard glare. “The walls outside your tomb says otherwise. It shows you fleeing from something, but it doesn't tell why your masks look different from the ones shown in the images prior.”

Kiihus grimaced at her.

“I didn't actually think I'd be standing here retelling my tale... fine.” he muttered.

“My mask looked exactly like any other dragon priest mask you might be lucky to come across, but when I joined Miraak... I started to serve another master, not just him.” he started slowly “That master was Hermaeus Mora.”

A cold breeze blew through the tunnel. Vaynith felt a sting of fear run down her spine.

Hermaeus Mora, the Lord of Secrets, Inevitable Knower, the Scryer of the Tide of Fate, the Daedric Prince who is the one shrouded in the deepest mystery and the endless void.
She'd heard tales of this Daedric lord and how those that sought his knowledge either became the most powerful of beings, the maddest of mad men or disappeared never to be seen again.

“Hermaeus Mora showed Miraak many things, some he shared with us. When the dragons attacked his temple Miraak somehow vanished, leaving the rest of us to fend for himself.” he made a gesture to the room they were in. “This was my hideout, I always came here when I wanted to be left alone. I feared Mora's servants were in my tracks, hence I tried to finish the wall outside my tomb.
I planned to stay here and wait for an opportunity to leave the island. Unfortunately the servants of the dragons found me, I was forced into my sarcophagus and frozen by their mages.”

He looked uncomfortable retelling this, he was swaying back and forth on his feet for a moment before he turned to start packing a satchel of his own with different things.

“Ice everywhere... covering my eyes, filling my nose... my mouth. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't dream.”

Vaynith already knew from the notes she'd read earlier, but it was still chilling to hear Kiihus recall the moment he had died.

Kiihus turned to look at her.

“The ice kept me from rotting away I guess. Then the mage showed up. He was like you, an elf.” he motioned to the heart stone in his chest. “He made several fine statements of how I was a relic of the past and I should just be grateful that through his experiments I was able to walk again.”

He gave a harsh, derisive laugh.

“Did he really think I would thank him? He's nothing, I served the dragons, I can bend the world with my voice. What can he do?” he stared Vaynith down as if challenging her.

“Besides bringing you back to life?” she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“You call this life?” Kiihus smacked the Heart Stone in his chest, it was flaming up now, he was getting angry. “That bastard ripped out my heart, bound my soul to my bones and gave me this hunk of coal to keep me alive.”

He started showing things down the satchel.

“I was lost in the void, nowhere to go. And then I think I finally saw Sovngarde, after an eternity of aimless walking.” his gaze turned wild. “Then something grabs me to the very core and drags me into a dead body, only alive when this stone is in my chest.”

He paused for a moment and looked at the Heart Stone, fingering the clamps keeping it in place.

“Did you do this?” he asked.

Vaynith wondered briefly what he'd do if he thought she'd but the clamps on him, so she answered quickly.

“No, the clamps were there when I arrived...” she had to be honest though “but I did put the stone in your chest and fastened it...”

Kiihus studied her face for a long time, his gaze was like fire. He finally looked away to close the satchel.

“Guess he was planning to let me have it in permanently.” an evil smile danced on his lips “smart of him to realize I would have torn him apart if that was the case.”

He heaved the satchel over his shoulder, dusting of his gloves.
Vaynith immediately understood what he was doing.

“You're seriously not thinking about going out there!” she yelled, unsure if she had to draw her sword or not.

Kiihus crossed his arms in defiance.

“And you don't seriously think that I'm going to stay in here are you?” he replied “That wizard took something important from here, I'm going to take it back.”

“What exactly did he take?” Vaynith asked, but she had a feeling she could guess what it was. “Does it has something to do with Hermaeus Mora?”

Kiihus avoided to look her in the eyes. “Maybe...”

“What is it Kiihus?” she said with a stern voice.

Kiihus actually looked amused when he stared her in the eyes.

“It's a black tome full of arcane knowledge. Those books was what allowed Miraak and the rest of us to become so powerful.” he expressio turned serious. “It's now in the hands of a wizard willing to defile the dead and who knows what else. Do I have to explain the danger in that?”

Vaynith closed her eyes, first this Miraak and now this?

Kiihus came around the table and stood directly in front of her with crossed arms.

“You asked before if I knew Miraak, I've given you pretty much all the important details of my history with him.” he looked her straight in the eyes. “Who are you and why are you here?”

Vaynith answered his gaze with her own, her red eyes clashing with his only blue one.

“My name is Vaynith R'zaenar, I'm on a journey to find out who Miraak is.” she poked Kiihus with a finger, even through the glow he felt hot “your old master is back and he's taking control over the people of Solstheim.”

Apparently this wasn't the answer Kiihus expected as his eyes turned wide in surprise.

“He's back... but how?” he asked with a whisper.

“I was hoping you could tell me.“ Vaynith replied with a sigh. “Now I must continue to the Skaal village to find the answer to that question.”

Kiihus was tapping a foot in the ground, he seemed to be thinking very hard.
After a few moments of hesitation he slammed a fist in his open palm.

“The book can do much damage in the wrong hands... but it takes time to unlock its secrets.” he said. “If Miraak has returned, they I must go to him.”

Not thinking about her own safety, Vaynith grabbed him by the shoulders, she was much shorter than him, so she had to reach up.

“If you're planning to join him, I can't let you leave.” she meant that, Miraak was doing harm to everyone with his power, he couldn't be allowed to get stronger with one of his former servants at his side.

Kiihus shrugged off her hands and walked to the banner in the shadows.

“I'm not going to help him at all.” he said, folding the banner and stuffing it inside the satchel.

He walked straight past her and left through the tunnel.

“I'm going to kill him for abandoning us at the mercy of our enemies.”

Vaynith stood still for a moment and then hurried after him.

“Wait! Do you even know where to look?!” she yelled.

Kiihus was fast on his feet, he had quickly left the tunnel and was on his way opening the door that lead to the hall of sculptured images.

“I have a few ideas.” he replied calmly when she caught up with him and went through the door.

He looked down at her with an amused expression.

“It's been ages since I last set foot on Solstheim, I suppose we could start with the Skaal.” he patted her on the shoulder. “Consider yourself my guide, following my orders.”

“YOUR ORDERS?!” Vaynith couldn't believe what she was hearing “I'm not your servant!”

They were inside the cave tunnels, Kiihus had swiped one of the torches outside the tomb and was walking ahead of her.

“I'm afraid you are, you might no your way around the island, but I have the power to even be a match for him.” he said looking over his shoulder.

He stopped when they reached the deadend near the hole Vaynith had fallen through, after inspecting the walls on the sides he pulled a hidden lever behind one of the rocks.
With a rumbling sound the wall slid aside, bathing the cave in the sunds bright light.

“Like it or not, we're in this together now.” Kiihus said with an arrogant smile. “We need each other.”
The Wayfaring Warrior: Chapter 3
Rush rush rush to get this chapter done, sorry if there are some grammar mistakes and spelling errors here and there... I tend not to proof read anything before posting XD

Yes, the man is indeed Kiihus the flaming conquerer I made images of a while back, now he's brought back as an travel companion for Vaynith, though she his maid now as he puts it :P

The chapter was originally named Emberfrost Barrow, as its the name of Kiihus tomb, but since there was no reason mentioning it, naming it after the thing that matters in it works better, which is of course Kiihus's introduction and backstory.

Forgive if it all seems rushed near the end, but hope you enjoy either way!

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Next Chapter: 

Skyrim and The Elder Scrolls © Bethesda

Vaynith R'zaenar © :iconjowain92:

Casdra Nightwood in Green Robes by Jowain92
Casdra Nightwood in Green Robes
Still have some images lying about that I'll upload from time to time, mostly character screenshots, sorry :/

Here Casdra wears an UNPB version of the Green Robes... sort of. The Green Robes were not exactly available in the original version of the game, so I merely used the Green Robe textures on the UNPB model coversion of the Mages Robes.

The Green Robes CAN however be obtained in-game with the Hearthfire DLC installed, where adopted children will give them to you as a gift... why they simply weren't given to a random monk in the core game is beyond me...
So DeviantArt is 15 years old now, that's awesome how the site has grown and here's to hoping it gets better. Nope Core is not to be considered better.

Anyways here's thr Questionnaire that apparently will interest people... I guess. Ahem.

1. How long have you been on DeviantArt

I've been on this site for about 4 years now and I imagen I will stay here for quite some time more.

2. What does your username mean?

It's a composition of my first and last name, with my date of birth at the end, the numbers 9 and 92 holds special meaning to me for that reason.

3. Describe yourself in three words?

Charming Selfish Bastard

4. Are you left or right handed?

Right handed, once had to use my left hand after I broke my right arm, but that was a long time ago.

5.What was your first Deviation?

Long since removed, but I believe it was a Soul Calibur fanfiction, I think one of the reasons I joined was to spread my writings. The focus shifted onto Screenhots.

6. What is your favorite type of art to create?

You could say Screenshots of Skyrim or any video game that allows me to manipulate the in-game camera, or any of the Voice Acting videos I do on Youtube, however the art I always liked the best to work with was writing and it is something I've picked up again.

7. If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be?

I really wish I could draw as good as some artists I know and look up to, I would love nothing more than to be able to by my own hand visualize images to the texts I write.
Alas, one can only truly master one path and in my case that's the written word.

8. What was your first favorite?

Well looking back in my favorites, the last thing is Count Dracula by GENZOMAN by :icongenzoman:, so that is probably the first thing I favorited. It's suitable, I always liked Vampires and Dracula in particular.

9. What type of art do you tend to favorite the most?

Mostly art that is drawn, but I have no select preference, it boils down to "Do I like this?" and if I see it so, I will favorite and leave a comment, I always leave a comment.
I HATE when people favorite without telling me why, I'm not going to rush to your page thanking you for favoriting my work, the comments (you opinion) are all that matters to me.

10. Who is your all-time favorite deviant artist?

I'm always drawn to :iconpanzerthetank:s works, she's an artist who's slowly evolving into something great. More than that, I consider her a good friend, even though we don't speak to each other anymore, something I regret deeply.

11. If you could meet anyone on DeviantArt in person, who would it be?

If anything, I would want to meet :iconpanzerthetank: and :iconninjagirl-1991: again, we met before and it was a fun week. Even if it would be a brief chance meeting, I'd still take that chance to give them both big hugs.
Some people I would very much like to meet in person are :iconithildin-da: and :iconthe-serene-mage:, two people who's been long time watchers and ones who always come with wonderful comments on my works, even if I haven't been very creative at all in that regard lately and I really wish I had better works to show them all.

The final person I want to meet and it's a meeting long over due, is :iconthe-observer-of-art:, a close friend of mine elsewhere but here only really favoriting art in general. Knowing him in person I would like to meet him in RL too.

12. How has a fellow Deviant impacted your life?

If it wasn't obvious already, :iconpanzerthetank: and :iconninjagirl-1991: have had more of an impact on me than anyone else on this site. They're good friends and wonderful people I don't think I could live without.
They've both been very supportive of me, especially :iconninjagirl-1991: who's been there when I've gone through some hard times.

If either of you are reading this, Thank you, you're the best friends I could ever ask for.

13. What are your preferred tools to create art?

A keyboard mostly, if I do have to use paper and pencil I will need to use my hands carefully, I have a bit of a rough grip around them, it usually hurts my fingers.

14. What is the most inspirational place for you to create art?

My mind actually, however reading books, playing video games or (and especially) listening to music. Not a place, but I do go someplace when listening to music. :P

15. What is your favorite DeviantArt memory?

Like I said meeting and getting to know :iconpanzerthetank: and :iconninjagirl-1991: are memories I cherish a lot, what else can I say?

And that's about it, excuse me if it got a little emotional there but I pride myself on my honest (even though it gets me plenty of trouble too).
I hope you all have a great day and enjoy the sun while it lasts!
  • Mood: Adoration
  • Listening to: Helloween
  • Reading: My own writing
  • Watching: Youtube
  • Playing: Nothing... :C
  • Eating: Chocolate and stuff
  • Drinking: Tea!!!


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Artist | Hobbyist | Literature

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Add a Comment:
manga-Denise Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2015  Student General Artist
Thanks for the watch! :D :hug:
Jowain92 Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Well I did favorite an old work of yours without watching you, so it was time I did :D
Gothalla123 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday! :hug: I hope you have a great day! :)
Jowain92 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you
Gothalla123 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome!
ronin-gh0st Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy bday friend! =) 
Jowain92 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks :)
Castiel-the-Angel Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015
Happy Birthday man! La la la la I am a dummy! :happybounce: 
Jowain92 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you :)
Castiel-the-Angel Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015
Cheers :)
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