Voice From The Internet

Accidentally created

A word of complaint if you let me.

Personally, I love drawing with a usual black pen. The result generally feels more soulful for me than the usual pencil. And it's convinient for a simple pen you usually have with you. But the disadvantages are obvious, right? If you draw a tiny line and it is at the wrong angle -- congratulations, you've just spoiled the whole facial expression! Usually somewhere at this point I just tear out the page and either try again or throw away the whole notebook.

With this drawing I again missed the placement of the eyes -- thay were too high. And you could say "it's just the original face", but if you have a photo for a reference (as I did) that excuse doesn't work fully. But since by the moment I noticed the mistake I already had the hair drawn and the rest, so I REALLY didn't want to start anew. And here is the "genious" solution my mind came up with -- just stick a piece of paper above the eyes and draw them again... That is not cheating, that is creative solution! (And even so, I managed to miss the right position... yeah.....)

Anyway, I think I like the result more or less. Especially when I don't look close enough long enough.

Leaving

"The faces the stars hold. The voices the trees whisper. The last look from the hill... She's gonna watch from afar, waiting in the Beyond for those who are bound by blood and ink. To accompany them into the new beginning, together with Falon'Din. For her service is not completed yet."

(many many screenshots)

This game has striken me to the depths of my soul. I believe it should be popularised. It deserves more attention than it has.

It has the plot. It has the voice acting (Jespar, my heart, I love you). It is beautiful. It asks you existential questions.

The story is: I'm not very familiar with AI for never have I encountered a situation where I desperately needed to use it. But! We all saw what it can do. So one day the thought occurs: "let create something together!"

And there we have a result:

I believe this is magnificent. *hysterically laughing*

Adrian, The Goddess

"...She floated off the ground, red curls flying. A terrible and vengeful goddess..."

The Wardens

Dancing under the Moon

"...oh, how she dances under the moon!" When I first heard that line I knew I'm going to draw this one way or another. And so the moment finally came.

"Sometimes those most powerful are the weakest. And so they flee. From pain. From understanding and affection. From trust. Because they fear. Will they admit it? Then it'd mean they'd grown up and changed.

The hero asks: will their kindness and patience make difference? And they will get the answer, just probably not the person, but the grave stone."

Considering Morrigan tells the Warden she values their friendship, which is her first and most precious, this time I wanted to think about how could that actually come true.

I never liked her and it was hard for me to imagine our mostly good characters could find points of contact with her, so some brain work was needed. In the end my friend who was playing as Dalish elf this time (the one I tried to picture here) came up with an idea of their time together like dancing (we all know elves dance even if games never show it), breathing together, finding bond through not words but moves of bodies -- "beautiful", I thought, "serene and suitable for the world full of despair and prejudices". The Dalish elf would show her their dance and she would learn because she wants to trust her, wants this feeling of belonging together.

Oh yeah, and after that they would sit together and grumble about how stupid people are and how their "Maker" and Chantry as whole doesn't make sense.

..............................

And here you thought Morrigan started to grow up as a person, becoming more mature and understanding and not being guided only by the goal of survival when suddenly she's a child again screaming "you're a fool!" and running away just before the final battle.

After all those talks of "not proving worthy but cherishing their friendship".

We came to the conclusion that she got scared of the pain caused by her only friend's death. So she decided to flee to not be a witness of it (hide in a hole, shut her eyes and sit there repeating "I hear nothing, I see nothing, it doesn't affect me.") Yes, this is an admirable behavior!

The Alkhars Curse

"Is your name a blessing, remarkable unthinkable coincidence, or a curse, a terrible misfortune that once your parent decided to bind the very essence of your existence with a set of sounds? It is the reason you still draw breath. Becouse of it you wear chains and are left at the mercy of other much weaker, inferior being. You wake up guessing what its mood is today, whether some new thing came into its mind during your restless sleep. Or you don't ever sleep, only close your eyes for a brief moment?

Then what? You await another order. Do you live? Is it a life even? Within the confines of master's whims. Another handout thrown underfeet, becouse he allowed it. No kontrol over your food, over your steps, over your own body...over your mind? Knowledge, the most true of all -- you depend on his will. Always. Despite your strenght, your power, all you've seen. You depend. Always.

Yet you breathe and your blood flows. You do not age.

But are you something more than a memory of bundle of energy about someone with your name. Your name is what keeps pieces of your self-image together. Sometimes they flow away. But they do so so slightly...you may not even notice. You are here. It's almost eternal. You, the creature of human flesh and blood of energy. You're stronger than many. You are here...as long as some mortal guides you here from your half-conscious form.

...

And, Oh. My. Gods. I fell in love.

And we gave them names (how could we go by without it?)

"Dalish Warden – Blight"

"Dalish Warden – Embers"

"Dalish Warden – Melancholy"

I, of course, was little depressed after, because I struggled to make it the way I'd like and here are some algorithms making an incredible combination of colors with few clicks.

Dalish Warden

"And all that remained is ring. The ring made of light wood carved in tree patterns and Dalish symbols. The ring that smelled of dry forest, moist grass and freshely made bow. The ring that if brought to the ear, sings the melody of wind dancing in leaves and aravels creaking lullingly. The ring that would gently hug the finger as bowstring holds an arrow just a moment before realising, with almost fading sensation as if never existed, yet was around from the beginning of times.

She would hold it carefully, but tight in her arms, press to her chest at night.

She would press her lips on the raw wood then look up to the black sky hoping, but not believing the stars would let her touch at lest slightly, at least glimpsengly the flame of her home."

"Can eyes sparkle? Probably yes. Maybe even burn.