White Necromancer






More of Jasons work can be found on Deviant Art.

“We don’t have that luxury.”

Rina snapped back. “We need a guide to find anything in there and as crazy as it sounds street rats die everyday from starvation. There will be one there I’m sure.”

Her partners stared back in various states of anger disbelief and annoyance. Chibb was first to argue. “It will be too risky and it wasn’t worth it last time so why now?”

Treva agreed and weighed in. “All of your rules and conditions make it to bogged down. A real Nec…”

“What? A real Necromancer wouldn’t have this problem? Enough. I am a real Necromancer and my rules and conditions are the only thing saving us from going down the paths of those sick ones. You and your souls should forever be thankful that I keep us reasonably righteous.”

After more squabbling the others finally agree and on the cover of night the group enters the beggars graveyard.

” it’s over here. Quiet.” Rina whispers to the others.

“How does she always know?” Nebbir asked as a chill ran down his neck. “She says she can feel the new innocent ones and those are the easiest. I got no problem with that. I do like easy.”

Suddenly she stops and turns to the group, motioning them close. . As they gather near she begins to chant. Her hand reaching for her bag as she sprinkles dogs hair over the freshly dug grave. The ground pulses and her arms tense up when the presence enters the their circle.

“I am Rina of the Grey Scrolls. I implore you guardian spirit let us enter into a partnership with this soul.” Her voice was solid and sure. Of all the tasks she does, entreating the spirits of the dead was one she was most confident with.

As she lowers her hands she feels the tug on her robes.

“Well , did it work?” Chibb questions on a whisper.

Rina smiled as she began “Yes it did. We have a guide now people. Also, very few know these streets better than him. Now let’s go find this dagger and keep up our end of the bargain with that fool of a dragon.”

Trouble at the Herald 06-02-2014

Truly some of the best work ive seen in a while. Check out the rest here.

“I understand. yes, I know you worry but listen Dad. I didn’t come here to do stories on what diner has the biggest corn dog. Real journalism is real risk. I love you too.”

Karen looked at the clock and saw that she had a few more minutes on her lunch break. Time enough for a smoke before she got back to the grind. She rolled back in the chair and took another look at the old wife and kids before reaching into her purse for a pack. As she stared at the boy and girl and the their mother wearing the Mickey Mouse ears she shuddered a bit. “Mrs Lewis, you are a saint.” In her head she was imaging Ralph and his wife in the throws of passion making those two beautiful children and she couldn’t piece it together. Ralph was a walking wildebeest of a man. Today he was out on assignment and no matter what kind of a beast he was, his chair and phone were the best ones in the building. The Herald spared no expense on his accommodations apparently. And her makeshift desk was a pile of railroad spikes compared to Ralph’s special spot. He would be out for only another 2 weeks but she was quickly growing accustomed to sitting there.

Part of her felt she owed her first real story to him. Afterall, she sat that for many long nights as she made phone calls and typed up draft after draft of her piece. “The greatest story never told. By Karen Dennis.” Or “K.D.” she hadn’t decided one what to use for the by line. She knew that seeing Karen may instantly turn off some readers so she went back and forth on what to do. With a bit of luck she could make that choice and not her editor. It was luck in the first place that even lead her to the story.

While moving to get a paper from Ralph’s desk the day after he left, she knocked over a stack of books. One book, left behind most likely by one of his kids after they came to visit, opened right to a section on Melvin Laird. Next to it a more recent newspaper article on a man who had faked his own death for insurance money. Almost absentmindedly she wonder to herself about Laird faking his own demise. Then it hit her to do some digging. Later that evening she was shocked when she was able to get proof that maybe Laird was alive. Not only Laird, but several other connections and links were made. The surprising thing was that ease of it. As far as she could tell no one else had thought to check if these figures were really dead. So with her press credentials and some quick thinking she could find all sorts of things out. She connected them back as far as the 1800′s. Hours of library time with microfiche older than her dad lead to more questions and fewer answers. The list of those who were not really dead read like a Who’s who of American history. Politicians, scientists, civil rights activists. Dozens thought to be dead but in actuality never truly confirmed. She was proud of her investigative work and after it was completed and left at her editors door she called her sister and dad to talk about it from Ralph’s desk. Her sister was very happy and supportive and her dad was just worried. “Be careful when you go digging through stuff like that. People can find out things and you may upset somebody.” Her old man was paranoid and even when they were younger he had a preoccupation with the worst case scenario or the ever present “Them” watching the families every move. But honestly, she didn’t mind growing up with a crackpot dad.

As she made it back from her cigarette with the girls from the billing department, she decided to take the stairs. When exiting to head back to the big comfy chair she heard the commotion.

“I am Agent Hagar and this is Agent Neil. We need everyone to calm down and cooperate. We are looking for a coworker of yours a woman named Ralph Lewis. It is imperative you help us find Mrs. Lewis for questioning.”

She saw them and ducked back around the corner. Two men, shaved head and no facial hair. They wore nicely pressed suits and moved with military like precision As she peered around the corner she saw them near her desk. Ralph’s desk. How did they make that mistake? Ralph was obviously a mans name. The way the moved it was easy to tell they had no idea what Ralph looked like. One of the men held a badge up to her coworkers and tried to quiet them down as the questions began. A few moved towards a door to leave the floor and another pair of men appeared. The same look. Clean shaven, nice suits and something off putting. She poked her head around the corner once more and saw as the second of the first two, Agent Neil, reached in and adjust a gun in his jacket. It was like no gun she had seen before. Karen knew that something wasn’t right and suddenly she felt sick to her stomach.

She took a deep breath and made it quickly and quietly into the stairwell. As quiet as she could she made her way down the stairs and thanked all that was good that she hated wearing heels. Her flats that her coworkers and sister always joked about were coming in handy right now. The thought raced across her mind. If they thought that she was Ralph that means they had tapped that phone line. That meant two things. One, it meant that they had heard her phone calls to her sister and dad. They most likely knew everything about them. And Two, her dad was right. She had upset somebody with her digging.

She made it to the car garage and fumbled for her keys and stopped. If they had already gotten into the building what chance did she really have of getting her car out of there. She would have to leave on foot. She began walking and plotting her next move. About a block from the Herald she noticed it. A car following her. She moved across the street and took a few more turns to make sure and the car stayed with her. She wasn’t paranoid and it really was following her. Before she knew it her turns and shortcuts had succeeding only in confusing her. She made a mad dash across a busy intersection narrowly missing a bloody and painful end to her slow chase. Finally she felt she had lost them. Until she looked over her left shoulder. An older Cadillac pulled up next to her and kept pace. She had no place to run and swallowed hard as the window was rolled down.

“Get in!” She stood there shocked as her old crackpot of a dad stared back at her.

“Dad, something crazy is happening. There’s trouble at the Herald.”

“Honey, you have no idea.”

Radha 05-30-2014


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The arrows roared overhead. The sound of thunder could be heard deep beyond the walls of the keep. As the attackers loaded and readied another volley, a lone figure moves towards the wall. With skill they climb up and over, vanishing into the certain and soon bloody death.

“Who was that?!” The bloodied captain asks as he hobbles to a position to avoid more arrows as they fly over the walls.

A soldier, far too you young for combat blinks and grimaces favoring the wound in his side as he answers. “Sir, I’m, I’m not sure but I think it was her.”

“Well, who the hell is “her”? If you haven’t noticed playing guessing games isn’t on the top of my list right now. I want to know who the hell just hoped that wall and committed suicide. Who the hell took the easy way out?!?”

The soldier answers half heartedly as if he would be in trouble for the reply. “Sir, it was Radha…”

“Blessed be the Green Mother. She came back.”

For weeks she had followed the signs that took her far from the Keep into the deep forest. The first clues were in the trees. Their leaves slightly turned and twisted. Most would never see this and that was fine. She knew that only a precious few could understand and sense the change that was near. This was her birthright and not to be understood by all. From the trees she then saw signs in the waters, the birds, the creatures of the forest. Nature itself was pulling inward to protect herself from the coming storm. All things pointed towards war on the horizon. Radha was no stranger to war nor did she fear it. She was born in battle and raised in strife. Her first words were a battlecry and her first toys the tools of combat. What she feared most was the peace that would follow. Would it be a peace forged from an understanding or a peace made from the slaughter of people. As a Red Warden she knew that she walked a thin line between two worlds. She understood that the battle that raged in her and the peace she was born to protect would mean quick actions, tough choices and the skill of hundreds of warriors. When she arrived back at the keep the beginnings of the fighting had already begun. She felt she was not too late and in her mind, she still had a chance.

She moved through the lanes of the Keep. Her body growing tense and at the ready for an attack. But her fight would not be by the side of her brothers and sisters. Her fight would in a much more deadly place. Radha did not fight wars, she ended them. And if her moves today were perfect, if her aim true, then she could stop this one before it truly began.

The ranks of the enemy were strong. They came prepared to wash over the Keep in a wave of strength they could not withstand. Their first attacks designed to weaken and strangle the fight out of them then they would rush the walls of the Keep and take no prisoners. Radha made it deep pas the front lines. Her sword deflecting arrows, her foot finding home in the legs and ribs of those who would move to stop her. She used her half blade only to disable, not kill the countless warriors that dared challenge her advance. Within frighteningly few moments she was near the inner ranks. Near the leader of the group. As she saw him she made her choice. No amount of talking would bring this conflict to a livable end. She made peace within herself and did what she had to do.

“Shes mine!” Yelled Gahrl as he moved quickly towards his would be attacker. His shield raised high to block her sword slash but also to push her back. He would use his defense as his weapon. To him, they were one in the same and he followed through with a mighty downward push to knock her off balance. Radha stiffened her back and pivoted to turn the attack to her side. Hoping to open up his left side to a deadly blow. Gahrl, no stranger to elven dirty fighting, instinctively defends himself with a turn into her. His knee lands in her ribs as he tries to grapple her sword hand and finish the scuffle. He digs a thumb into her neck and forces her to recoil in pain. Nearly destroying the nerves there with his unnatural grip, he succeeds in making her break the grapple. He draws his sword and sees the slight smile upon her face. Radha smiles because she knows that now they fight her fight. Sword against sword, there was nothing that walked on two legs in the forest that could best her. Gahrl charges and with a swift turn and swing down. The Half Sword of the Burning Tree cleaves the head of Gahrl, Warlord of the Five Nations.

A hush falls over the crowd that has gathered. A foolish warrior draws his blade and takes a step forward.

“Run home cur, I have already taken your masters head, don’t make me trash you with it. Now, I will speak to the next in line to be in Warlord and discuss your terms of a treaty. Today this war ends, before it starts.”

Powerpuff Girls 05-12-2014

See Ricky’s other incredible images here at his Deviant Art page.

The city of Townsville! lays in ruins…

For decades an evil element was held at bay as deadly villains and the criminally insane were held securely in T-MaS, Townsville Maximum Security Subterranean Prison. But all of that changed when the mastermind known as Mojo Jojo escaped. A plan that had been in the works for years was finally fully realized. Responsible for putting him, and countless others away, the city’s only hope are the Powerpuff Girls. But will the experimental creation of the long dead Professor Utonium be able to stand up to this threat?

Distant Radio voice : Red Blue and Green are you reading me? I am showing hostiles on the ground about 2 kliks out heading for your position. Girls, do you read me?Blossom: Copy that Dexter, This Is Blossom, we read you loud and clear. Just not used to these new head-plants. Do they really pick up everything?
Dexter: Yes they do, and you don’t have to yell I can hear everything perfectly fine. Even Bubbles and her chewing gum.
Bubbles: What? I get nervous and then I chew.
Buttercup: Come on guys, Dexter is right, I’m picking them on up on my long range scans too. We need to get in formation and hit them first.
Blossom: Buttercup, calm down. We don’t know if this fight is even necessary, We don’t haven any indication they know where Mojo is or what he did with Mayor Bellum. Our first task is to find out what they know before we take anybody out. Neutralize and question before putting them on ice.
Buttercup: Fine. But when this goes crazy, you’re gonna have to put up with my I told you so danceLOCK AND LOAD GIRLS, LETS DO IT TO IT!

With years of training under their belts the girls spring into action. Blossom begins her list of commands. They have done it hundreds of times before but the repetition has been the thing keeping them alive. The ritual of combat that they stick to hoping to never have a mistake again.

Blossom: Im up girls, Increasing energy output and molecular density. We are now operating with an energy increase of 50%. Bubbles you’re up!
Bubbles: No problem!

With a smirk and almost laugh, Bubbles hits the control panel on the left wrist of her armor. Small pebbles and debris nearby begins to vibrate and pulse with unseen waves of energy. With a final press she activates her Static repulsor shield enveloping herself and then the others in electrically charged bubbles of force.

The girls make their move and head out. Blossom flying well over head and leading the charge. Below on the ground Bubbles opts to use her signature method of jumps and leaps slightly magnetizing and demagnetizing her personal shield to make her jumps more powerful. Buttercup runs at incredible speeds and keeps a keen eye on rooftops and spots for hidden hostiles. As the girl get within range of the targets Bubbles loads a large ball of statically charged energy, finally launching it into the center of the advancing group. The impact sends enough energy out to stun and stagger most of the group. Blossom from her elevated vantage point targets the weapon systems and guns of the hostiles taking care to not injure any of them. A few random shots or two are fired at her but seem to only add to Bubbles shielding. Buttercup stops short of the scuffle and makes a final scan. She pauses as if to make calculations and gives a nod to herself before blasting ahead. With a series of darts and dodges she knocks down and disarms the rest of the group. Breaking guns and stun batons with expertly placed kicks, punches and rifle strikes.

Dexter: Girls, you need to..
Buttercup: Dexter, we’re kind of busy now. Can we turn this thing off?
Dexter: No, you’re not listening to me
Blossom: We understand, but we do this all of the time, its best to use non lethal force first, its what the Professor trained us for.
Dexter: No, but girls, Look.
All 3 girls: WHAT!!?!?!
Dexter: That wasn’t the group of hostiles i was talking about.

The girls check their sensors. Nothing appears wrong with them. Blossom begins to slowly rotate and increase her elevation and then suddenly she sees it.

At the edge of the city coming in from almost all angles, waves of troops.

Blossom: Buttercup, can you hear me?
Buttercup: What is it Blossom? What do you see?
Blossom: I hope you have that music for your I told you dance ready to play. Things just got crazy.

Front Mission: A Moment Alone 04-2014



See more of Kai’s work on his Deviant Art page.

32 units accounted for. Ranner made a final walkthrough of the warehouse before heading to the control room. He looked at each of the majestic warriors as they sat powered down but still viscous as ever. He knew that in their machine brains no time was truly passing and if given the command they would spring into action again. They would power up, scan for friendlies and targets and carryout their missions without a single thought. They would do so according to parameters hardcoded into their systems. Parameters he put there years ago. The sleek lines of the Alamo model, the deadly curves of the Shugenja and the powerful stout body of the Pax-Bjorne were some of his favorites. He could remember the points in his life when his current obsession with a moment in history prompted the design of each one. 32 in all each inspired by a great warrior or battle or moment in out collective history. But that was long ago and the Ghost Wars were long ended. He made sure each mech was in its proper place. He told himself that he was glad mankind no longer needed them but secretly hoped that one day he could push the button and wake his mechanical marvels up for battle again. For now, for this moment, he would have to settle for one last moment alone.


Steampunk Octopus 12.2013


Strap in and take a look at more mindblowing pieces from Alex on his site.

Bumps were a part of the job. You didn’t go out to sea and not expect to have the boat dip and dive to levels that would upset the stomachs of folks on land. Captain Dominic knew this and was comfortable with it. So comfortable that he almost slept through and event that sailors and scholars would talk about for decades to come.

“Captain! Come quick! That bastard was right!”

Arvey checked his hands for splinters as he made it to the bottom of the stairs leading below deck. Without a thought he disobeyed the unwritten rule and slid down the set of stairs with his hands on the old wooden rails. As loud as he could he yelled to the captain fast asleep in his small out of the way cabin. Dreams of spending hard earned money comforted him most likely as the ship rolled and dipped. He could sleep through a hurricane and a half no doubt and a “little water” hitting port side wouldn’t wake him now. Waves the size of buildings crashed in and then sucked back out as they tried to keep afloat versus the massive unnatural beast. Deckhands ran about frantically grabbing all manner of hooks and weapons as they tried to make sense of what they were seeing. They couldn’t believe that the bastard was right.

Weeks earlier the crew caught the sight of a glint on the horizon. Thinking it was a buoy or some other floating salvage, they moved towards it. Only to find a debris field half a mile long and the near dead dried and salted body of famed explorer and adventurer Louis Flint. When he explained the situation they counted their lucky stars. Not only were they now talking to a living legend, they came about and rescued him after his ship was apparently destroyed by the Autono-pus. A monstrous construct conceived and built by the Phantom Hood. The worlds first super villain. Louis had been on his trail for years and at the risk of his notoriety, his fame fortune and even sanity he was going to unmask the Hood. He offered untold riches to the men aboard the ship if they would help him recover equipment destroyed when the Hood and his machine attacke his ship. When that equipment was safely aboard, secured and covered, they could began their new job of tracking down and confront the Hood. Captain Dominic agreed, fully believing the adventurer was crazed but not being able to pass up a chance at the money he offered.

So on that bright morning when one of Flints numerous devices began to beep, the crew paid no mind. They were more excited about receiving word from the nearby HMS Lockheed and the chance to resupply their whiskey casks. When the sky suddenly darkened, they continued their games of chess and loudly exaggerated stories of conquest. But when the sea boiled and tentacles the size of smokes stacks snaked forth their tune changed. With frightening precision the arms grabbed the vessel before them and began to rip it open, mere wrapping paper to a child. Smoke poured from other unseen gashes on the underside of the ship as the metallic beast conducted its brutal surgery. Suddenly, the rattle of gunfire competed with the sound of metal and wood being torn asunder. A heavy rain of bullets came from the smaller ship as Louis Flint pulled the tarp from his precious salvaged cargo and opened fire on the Autono-pus with his incomprehensible Gun-chair. A steam powered chimera of chair, gunship, automobile and tank. A device dreamed up to slay a creation of nightmares. Several of his shot found their mark in the side of the beast. It released its death grip on its target and dove beneath the waves.

“Abandon ship!” Louis shouted as the Captain made it up top.

“Wait a second Flint, that’s my call. And what for? You drove it off you crazy bastard, you did it”

Without looking at the captain Louis turned the gun chair towards the deck, straight down. “I’m sorry Captain, it is your ship, But If i’m right, in about 12 seconds there wont be much of it left. It doesn’t matter who gives the order but get them off. 10 seconds Captain. 9, 8….” The crew looked on in horror as Flint counted down. The whole time aiming and charging the Gun Chair straight at the deck of the ship. The Captain gave the order and understood what was happening at the same moment. He braced himself for both impacts.

The Undercity 01.2014



More superb work from Jake can be found on his Deviant Art page.

I used to look up at them and wonder what made them do it. What person in their right mind would choose to live above ground. I guess in past times it made sense. Things were different back then. But now it’s a death sentence. The suns aren’t held back anymore and those waves of pulsating radiation destroy almost anything they touch.

We made a good choice to save ourselves but it cost more than many could imagine. Dozens of generations ago when they came we had to make that choice. We couldn’t escape the message and the ultimatum the machines issued. Across all communications the message was heard. They gave us time to get things In order and we took that time to make a plan. Our plan? Destroy the atmosphere and expose our surface to the double dose of our suns. In months the radiation levels would be too high for their circuits to work properly. In years all of the resources they wanted would be contaminated. In a generation we would Be a vast wasteland that they would never visit again. We knew the consequences and the alternative so we chose what was best. After a few decades people ventured back out there. They said it was right. They said that out there was the true spirit of our world. Some misguided faith told them We were willing to sacrifice to make a stand back then. But from where I sit they’re crazy. They have death wishes and no common decency. The few people who truly understand about survival still hide from the double barreled suns. We live in the Undercity and down here is where the story really begins.

Search for Auriga 11-13


Some very impressive work on Aurelien’s Deviant Art.

“Quickly quickly people we must hurry.We must go deeper still.”

The Matron waived the people onward towards the lifts. By groups of ten and twelve they were pushed into the cars and as the doors closed the hum of repulsor engines could be heard. They were carried deep below the city and away from the rumbling above. It was the only way they could be saved from what was about to come.

The shaking began days ago as the first waves and scans reached the planet. The Matron council knew what was happening and without hesitation began to move quickly. For 7 generations they had avoided contact with the outer planets. Kept trade to a minimum and successfully shed their past. On a world in the zones deemed too barren to support life, they carved a living from nothing. When their first probes find the paradise they knew there was no turning back. A ship full of forced soldiers could recognize a tactical advantage when they saw it and jumped at the opportunity. None wished to do battle in the Gate Wars and when they were instructed to hide and hold for instructions they decided to follow half of their orders. Here on Torias-12 they could indeed hide from detection. Their enemies would never find them and neither would their war-blinded commanders. They could take their ship into the atmosphere, strip her communications devices and homing beacons and all but vanish from the war and their home. So for generations they did. They built trade and society and new technology. Enough knowledge was kept to speed up the process from scratch and help them become a society that truly understood the value of peace and one that repressed the violence of war.

But years later the war raged on. And when the High Command of Garnus once again decreed a ship was to seek refuge for a later sneak attack. The Auriga was discovered. Her halls were rocked from the violent scans and the remote reactivation of long dormant systems. The probes entered the atmosphere and gathered years of data in seconds. Soon they would return that information to the ships and then back to High Command. They had been found and the unintentional search for Auriga was at an end.

The Matrons did their best to evacuate the city to safe areas far away and below the old ship. As the last cars made their escape they readied themselves. In a matter of minutes they would again prepare for something they had not seen in years. Battle. Yet this time it was a battle they wished to fight. They would now fight for the peace of their people by fighting their forgotten past.

Sky Whales 12-13



One incredible gallery of work at CgHub.


We always heard that those who didn’t learn history were doomed to repeat it. Funny thing is, that’s not an all inclusive thing. For all of us that learned from our mistakes and tried to take care of the planet, there were just as many who did the opposite. The lands and forests were polluted beyond repair. And the waters took the worst of our harshness. But this time we just didn’t get close to losing the ocean life. This time, the whales simply had enough, and they left. Overnight, the oceans became a bit quieter. Whale songs vanished from listening posts. The clicks and deep whistles no longer echoed through the deep. The remaining science minded individuals searched for answers but any clues were long gone or eroded thanks to our ways. Yet somewhere out there were those of us who still had answers. Some who knew that the disappearance of the mighty whales was just the beginning of a countdown to their return.

So when the vibrations shook from the clouds to the very ground we lived on a few of us were not surprised. Some of us were ready for this day and were glad to witness the beginning of a new era.

“They were ancient before we were young and many stayed when their kind left. They stayed to watch and live beside us because of our great potential. Despair not when they leave, for it is only to return and help us reach a new plateau.” — The Whale Song, unknown.

Snow Flakes 12-13

More of Thomas’s work can be found on Deviant Art.

“But dad, why does it only happen now? What about the rest of the time?” Her voice was a bit more inquisitive than normal. She had good reason. Most things she learned from the haptic-lesson pod but whoever programmed them never saw a reason to add entries for snow. In fact, they missed a large number of entries and concepts when they set them up. Gilbert knew this and tried his best to fill in those gaps for the girl but there always seemed to be something new he missed.

“Its just weather Lilly. Sometimes it gets really cold and then the water that makes the clouds freezes. Then it falls down here, just snow.”

Her upturned helmet tried to track a single flake as it fell. With a little movement she caught it on her visor. it melted quickly leaving a faint outline. Gilbert was quietly relieved as it was the first time in ages their crosstown trek was so smooth. Luck would have it that it was also one of those rare times snow actually fell in New Toronto. He still remembered the old style history books, They had pictures of snow in big mountains. Blizzards and snowstorms were talked about and even old videos of them used to be available. But now those days were long gone. The only information available on history was in the pods. And only the most wealthy could afford the complete versions. That was one reason Lily had such an incomplete one. That and the fact that she had no use for all of that extra digitally stored knowledge. Not where she would eventually end up. Her pod times were best used learning useful skills.

As they made it to the train station it marked the halfway point of the weekly trip. Soon they would board and at least half of the prying eyes and hushed voices would stop. The people were never used to seeing Lily and it always bothered her. For a while the bear helped but soon even it failed to comfort her. Gilbert took to wearing the helmet so that she could see it was OK. And overtime, that too lost its affect. But today, the snow was a welcome distraction. Being so preoccupied by it she probably never even heard the names they were called.

“Come on Lilly, lets get on. Soon we will be at the center and you can take you helmet off. Just a little more to go.”

“Will there be snow at the center too?”

“Maybe, Lets hurry and find out.”

He knew it was nonsense, but for a moment he could feel her smile through the helmet.