|Down Town Talbot's Peak|
I also am trying to make a map of the town of Talbot's Peak. The above picture is
one shot of down town Talbot's Peak. It's looking a little rough and unfinished, but I'll get there. I'm having to teach myself Daz Studios 4.6 as I go because, well, it's just silly for me to still be working in the old Daz3 environment. And it's still free right now. So, I'm relearning how to manipulate stuff. I'm not sure playing with 3D software counts as work, though, since it's actually more of a hobby. (The other two pics are examples of what I do to relax! Their quality compared to today's creation should give you an idea of why I'm not entirely happy with the town scene.)
That's about it as far as newsy bits for right now. I'll close this out with a sneak peek at the afor mentioned untitle WIP and wish you all a wonderful thanksgiving week!
"Mercy," Jarod Black muttered thickly past a split lip and chattering teeth. He was cold and in pain, his whole body throbbing from the earlier fall off his horse. He'd fallen into the river, which had saved him from a broken neck and his pursuers had fished him out of the icy water, sparring him from drowning. The long ride back to Castle Blanche while wet and tightly bound had spared him nothing.
Perhaps the lord of the castle would spare him death. After all, Jarod hadn't actually stolen anything. It was splitting hairs but that was about all he had going for him at the moment. Though, in all honesty, it was more than he'd had going for him for a long time. He'd found adventure and made a name for himself but had nothing to show for it.
"Mercy for a thief?" Lord Morgan repeated archly.
"I stole nothing," Jarod said mulishly, knowing it was not the correct thing to say but unable to stop himself.
"Except for one of my horses," his lordship shot back. Jarod started to shrug but flinched when the motion jostled his throbbing shoulder. he clamped his eyes shut and fought the nausea that stewed in his belly.
"You got it back," he gasped through the pain.
"Because you fell off," his lordship replied. Jarod hung his head as the nausea turned to a cold sweat, really not a good thing considering the chill he had from being dunked in the icy river. He knew Lord Morgan was waiting to hear his next rejoinder but he was having trouble thinking as the shock of his injuries finally caught up with him.
"Mercy, then," he heard Lord Morgan say distantly, as though from far away down a muzzy, echoing cavern. He was fainting, Jarod realized just as he struck the ground. How undignified...
Lord Morgan looked down at the silver-tongued thief before him. Oh, he knew Jarod Black, or rather he knew of him. The knight-turned-mercenary was becoming very notorious for his willingness to take on jobs with little success, primarily because he always managed to scrape through. Not this time, of course. Morgan's guards had caught Black trying to scale the inner courtyard wall. But he did usually manage to pull off impossible jobs and might have succeeded this time had the moon not been full and the sky clear. The pale stone walls of Castle Blanche fairly glowed in moon light, making anyone trying to scale it's walls stand out like a dark smudge on a white cloth.
What Morgan didn't know was who had hired Black and what he'd been after. Morgan was a thoroughly boring noble of the northern realm. He had no secrets and was involved in no intrigues. Unless Jarod Black had tried to break in just for the challenge of being able to say he stole into Castle Blanche. Which he didn't. Morgan sighed, knowing that the source of any answers was laying injured at his feet. He nodded to his seneschal to call the man closer.
"Have him brought in to the solar and send for the healer."
"Is that wise, milord?" Albie asked nervously. Morgan eyed the stooped, elderly man who had served his father and his father's father before that. The man was a capable caretaker of the castle but had never been overly bold.
"Do you know what he was after?" he asked.
"Ah, no, milord. I can't say as I do," Albie said shaking his head.
"Neither do I," Morgan replied. He nudged the thief's prone form with the side of his booted foot. "But he does. It might be easier to get it out of him if he's alive, don't you think?"