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This was the second picture I had commissioned for Warren. It shows him walking around with his preferred sword, the long sword.
He is just wearing simple leather chest armor, with metal pauldrons. He also has wears metal vambraces.
Warren did not have a troubled childhood. While he never knew his mother, who died in childbirth, he lived a happy life with his father. His father, the captain of the city watch, taught his son the fundamentals of soldiering. He also taught Warren the tools of the trade; sword, shield, pike, and a basic understanding of hand to hand combat.
But it was obvious early on that Warren was a master with the sword. By age ten he could nearly best his own father, despite being nearly 3 times his senior and many times stronger. This caused his father to send his son away, for training. Though it hurt them both, Warren's father knew that he would get a better life from someone else.
This was how Warren came into training with Father Missiani. Father Missiani was the head of the Church of Korz; Korz being the god of the blade. Missiani could only be described as an elder lion; with a mane of white hair, a well groomed beard, and a build that any younger man would strive their whole life to get. And he was a master of most weapons, but he was Korz in human form with a sword. Thus began the ten longest years of Warren's life.
Under the tutelage of Missiani and his acolytes, Warren quickly mastered his potential. He became a force to be reckoned with; one of the greatest sword fighters the world has ever known. He was trained to use every sword accessible; from the broad sword, to the khoseph, to the katana, to the scimitar, to the rapier. He seemed to favor the straight, double sided blades.
On the eve of Warren's 20th birthday, Missiani granted Warren with his final lesson and his most treasured gift. The gift was a sword, crafted from the finest steel, folded thousands of times to create the hardest metal. But to outside appearances, it was nothing special; just a long sword with a rippling, blue-tinted blade. The hilt and cross guard were not ornate at all. But the sword, while being extremely hard, was supremely balanced; it could be swung for hours and not become dead weight.
Warren cherished this blade, and when he was sent on his pilgrimage, it was one of the only major possessions he brought. The pilgrimage that the disciples of Korz went on usually meant them traveling the world, learning new techniques for the sword. But Warren's was cut short when he met Gregor Liam.
Gregor quickly became Warren's closest friend, just from how persuasive he was. And in short work, Warren learned that Gregor was a general of sorts. He had a following, an army. And Gregor wanted Warren's help leading it. And his help he gave. So began the darkest years of Warren's life.
Gregor, the master of persuasion, was able to convince Warren that they were over throwing the rightful ruler of the nation for a 'better life'. Sadly, this was not the case. The kingdom was actually in a decent state of peace and prosperity before Gregor led his army on a scourge of the land.
As the war raged, Warren slowly got a taste for blood and battle. He had fought in a few skirmishes while under the watch of Missiani, but this was war. And it changed Warren. The once cheerful, bright lad soon became sullen, quiet, and dark. He let Gregor do the talking, and his sword do the work. After nearly a year of war, Warren committed his first horror; wiping out the entire village of Whitehill.
After that it went all down hill. Gregor sent him to village after village, until his civilian death toll alone ranged close to 100. After four years of war, and half a nation slaughtered and burned in their wake, the combined forces of three nations finally defeated Gregor.
Warren was not with Gregor when this happened; he was out with his Demons, a highly trained group of elite soldiers led by him. Some say if he was there, he could have saved Gregor. Warren said that himself.
So Warren left. He left the war, and even the nation. None knew he was Korz's Demon, for none who saw him in battle had lived. So when his pilgrimage was done, 7 years later, Warren came home. The nation had almost gotten back to its former glory, but the marks of the Failed Rebellion, as it was called, were still evident. Such as the nearly 30 villages that were burned, destroyed, and abandoned, with the countryside full of graves.
Warren tried to return to Missiani and the other acolytes of Korz, only to find that Missiani had passed away two years prior, asking for him.
This was the last bit of death Warren could take. So he went and wandered, with nothing but his sword, the clothes on his back, a hardy pair of boots, and a guitara to pay for his meals.
I honestly cannot remember who drew this! It's been nearly two years. But it was a very talented Tumblr artist.
He is just wearing simple leather chest armor, with metal pauldrons. He also has wears metal vambraces.
Warren did not have a troubled childhood. While he never knew his mother, who died in childbirth, he lived a happy life with his father. His father, the captain of the city watch, taught his son the fundamentals of soldiering. He also taught Warren the tools of the trade; sword, shield, pike, and a basic understanding of hand to hand combat.
But it was obvious early on that Warren was a master with the sword. By age ten he could nearly best his own father, despite being nearly 3 times his senior and many times stronger. This caused his father to send his son away, for training. Though it hurt them both, Warren's father knew that he would get a better life from someone else.
This was how Warren came into training with Father Missiani. Father Missiani was the head of the Church of Korz; Korz being the god of the blade. Missiani could only be described as an elder lion; with a mane of white hair, a well groomed beard, and a build that any younger man would strive their whole life to get. And he was a master of most weapons, but he was Korz in human form with a sword. Thus began the ten longest years of Warren's life.
Under the tutelage of Missiani and his acolytes, Warren quickly mastered his potential. He became a force to be reckoned with; one of the greatest sword fighters the world has ever known. He was trained to use every sword accessible; from the broad sword, to the khoseph, to the katana, to the scimitar, to the rapier. He seemed to favor the straight, double sided blades.
On the eve of Warren's 20th birthday, Missiani granted Warren with his final lesson and his most treasured gift. The gift was a sword, crafted from the finest steel, folded thousands of times to create the hardest metal. But to outside appearances, it was nothing special; just a long sword with a rippling, blue-tinted blade. The hilt and cross guard were not ornate at all. But the sword, while being extremely hard, was supremely balanced; it could be swung for hours and not become dead weight.
Warren cherished this blade, and when he was sent on his pilgrimage, it was one of the only major possessions he brought. The pilgrimage that the disciples of Korz went on usually meant them traveling the world, learning new techniques for the sword. But Warren's was cut short when he met Gregor Liam.
Gregor quickly became Warren's closest friend, just from how persuasive he was. And in short work, Warren learned that Gregor was a general of sorts. He had a following, an army. And Gregor wanted Warren's help leading it. And his help he gave. So began the darkest years of Warren's life.
Gregor, the master of persuasion, was able to convince Warren that they were over throwing the rightful ruler of the nation for a 'better life'. Sadly, this was not the case. The kingdom was actually in a decent state of peace and prosperity before Gregor led his army on a scourge of the land.
As the war raged, Warren slowly got a taste for blood and battle. He had fought in a few skirmishes while under the watch of Missiani, but this was war. And it changed Warren. The once cheerful, bright lad soon became sullen, quiet, and dark. He let Gregor do the talking, and his sword do the work. After nearly a year of war, Warren committed his first horror; wiping out the entire village of Whitehill.
After that it went all down hill. Gregor sent him to village after village, until his civilian death toll alone ranged close to 100. After four years of war, and half a nation slaughtered and burned in their wake, the combined forces of three nations finally defeated Gregor.
Warren was not with Gregor when this happened; he was out with his Demons, a highly trained group of elite soldiers led by him. Some say if he was there, he could have saved Gregor. Warren said that himself.
So Warren left. He left the war, and even the nation. None knew he was Korz's Demon, for none who saw him in battle had lived. So when his pilgrimage was done, 7 years later, Warren came home. The nation had almost gotten back to its former glory, but the marks of the Failed Rebellion, as it was called, were still evident. Such as the nearly 30 villages that were burned, destroyed, and abandoned, with the countryside full of graves.
Warren tried to return to Missiani and the other acolytes of Korz, only to find that Missiani had passed away two years prior, asking for him.
This was the last bit of death Warren could take. So he went and wandered, with nothing but his sword, the clothes on his back, a hardy pair of boots, and a guitara to pay for his meals.
I honestly cannot remember who drew this! It's been nearly two years. But it was a very talented Tumblr artist.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Human
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 971 x 1280px
File Size 163.1 kB
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