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Anvil.
When Dr. Anvilspring found me, I was in a sorry state. Barely surviving. Hanging on to life by thin threads. Mentally, physically. And mechanically.
I was sick and malnourished.
My suit was so worn down that I barely dared to move, fearing irrepairable breakdowns.
You took me in.
Despite my endlessly depressed mood, health conditions, and uncountable maintenance issues.
My suit broke down frequently, slowing the warband's progress.
And so did my mental state.
But not once did you leave me behind.
You stopped. Worked with me to resolve issues.
And we kept going. Together.
And every time one of you took time to help me, things got better.
Piece by piece, my suit's parts got replaced with less worn, and often higher quality parts.
Bit by bit, you pulled my mental state out of the deep hole it had been in.
I no longer live as a shambling husk of a Charr in a decaying metal shell that is falling apart with every step.
I live as a walking tank, each part well-oiled, and ready to go to apply my strength where the warband needs me.
And I am surrounded by good people.
I would die for you.
But considering how sturdy I am, that probably won't be necessary anytime soon.
So you'll keep getting graced -or cursed- by my strength and steel. Sarcasm and smiles.
As long as my heart still beats and these legs carry me, I'll walk with you all.
Onwards, towards a future I didn't even dare to dream of only a mere year ago.
And I won't let anyone stop me.
Especially not some schmucks with pitiful little rifles.
You're gonna need a bigger caliber for this, lads.
Bullets ricochet off Tasia's thick shoulder plating, whirring past her ears.
But the noise gets drowned out in the rumble of her suit's engine and her battle roar.
As she starts picking up speed towards the panicked bandits with a thundering stride, she forms her metal right hand to a fist. Steam leaking from the joints from the overpressure, she makes for a terrifying last sight for those few poor bastards who chose not to run.
The receiving end of that strike may look like this.
Baller artwork of my half mechanical Charr gal, Tasia. Maybe just a little 40k inspired, yes :P
Done by the amazing Frost Llamzon! Find their stuff here: https://frostllamzon.carrd.co/ !
When Dr. Anvilspring found me, I was in a sorry state. Barely surviving. Hanging on to life by thin threads. Mentally, physically. And mechanically.
I was sick and malnourished.
My suit was so worn down that I barely dared to move, fearing irrepairable breakdowns.
You took me in.
Despite my endlessly depressed mood, health conditions, and uncountable maintenance issues.
My suit broke down frequently, slowing the warband's progress.
And so did my mental state.
But not once did you leave me behind.
You stopped. Worked with me to resolve issues.
And we kept going. Together.
And every time one of you took time to help me, things got better.
Piece by piece, my suit's parts got replaced with less worn, and often higher quality parts.
Bit by bit, you pulled my mental state out of the deep hole it had been in.
I no longer live as a shambling husk of a Charr in a decaying metal shell that is falling apart with every step.
I live as a walking tank, each part well-oiled, and ready to go to apply my strength where the warband needs me.
And I am surrounded by good people.
I would die for you.
But considering how sturdy I am, that probably won't be necessary anytime soon.
So you'll keep getting graced -or cursed- by my strength and steel. Sarcasm and smiles.
As long as my heart still beats and these legs carry me, I'll walk with you all.
Onwards, towards a future I didn't even dare to dream of only a mere year ago.
And I won't let anyone stop me.
Especially not some schmucks with pitiful little rifles.
You're gonna need a bigger caliber for this, lads.
Bullets ricochet off Tasia's thick shoulder plating, whirring past her ears.
But the noise gets drowned out in the rumble of her suit's engine and her battle roar.
As she starts picking up speed towards the panicked bandits with a thundering stride, she forms her metal right hand to a fist. Steam leaking from the joints from the overpressure, she makes for a terrifying last sight for those few poor bastards who chose not to run.
The receiving end of that strike may look like this.
Baller artwork of my half mechanical Charr gal, Tasia. Maybe just a little 40k inspired, yes :P
Done by the amazing Frost Llamzon! Find their stuff here: https://frostllamzon.carrd.co/ !
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
Species Charr
Size 1919 x 1919px
File Size 639.1 kB
Iron within, Iron without, brother :D Definitely took a little bit of inspiration from shapes of Mk III armor, heh. And some of my ref materials were straight out 40k power armor pieces
Though I can't take all the credit, a lot of the base shape is from an ingame outfit GW2 has. I just decided to make into a sort of "what if Space Marine, but Charr and steampunk?" by adding a bunch of features like the exhausts, engine on the back, turning one hand into a power fist, the analog instrument panel, and so on :)
Though I can't take all the credit, a lot of the base shape is from an ingame outfit GW2 has. I just decided to make into a sort of "what if Space Marine, but Charr and steampunk?" by adding a bunch of features like the exhausts, engine on the back, turning one hand into a power fist, the analog instrument panel, and so on :)
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