These images are of Cora Venix, a tattooed feline with the temper of her tattoos comprising of the Crow and phoenix.
Forty Four (Illusion) Mobile
Forty Four (Illusion)
Twisted Hear No
Cora Venix Outfits with Tunic DT
Cora Venix Outfits DT
Cora Venix Outfit with Tunic B
Cora Venix Outfit with Tunic A
Cora Venix Outfit B
Cora Venix Outfit
Project Render at 50%
The following poems are randomly selected from part A of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
East Coast ( Ferral's Thoughts )
We've been waiting for Hasten's return,
As he should have returned by now.
Maybe, he's still resting up with Kindaal;
Maybe, he's only away by an hour.
Since he's been gone, things have been stirring.
I think that we are awfully close to the Towers,
Because the fires and chanting are alive;
I don't know if they are Natas's or ours.
I sent a scout out to confirm my thoughts.
He returned to tell me of the Assistant's retreat;
How they were running scared from something,
Unaware of what, he couldn't see through Between's heat.
I do wish Hasten would speed things up,
So I could attack, instead of this dreary wait.
I so wish, Hasten would give me Kindaal's orders,
So that I could seal Natas's deserved fate.
West Coast ( Kindaal's Thoughts )
Where's the Runner, he's been gone too long?
I sent him out to report on how Ferral is going.
Then again, he may be on his way now.
One thing is for sure, my temper is growing.
My patience was at it's tethers end,
So I sent out another Runner on the third day.
The second Runner was only gone for the night,
When he came back, this was all he could say.
"I looked all over the Between Kindaal,
To see nothing, except it's heat haze.
I climbed the Highlands, to see a disturbance,
It looked like the Two Towers were ablaze."
It seems to me that Ferral has progressed well,
Better than I had possibly thought.
Well, time to make a move forwards,
To help Ferral on his fantastic haunt.
Second Apostle's Letter
I am writing to you once again, hoping that you are taking care of yourself, and my companions. By now, most would have introduced themselves. At the same time, a lot might not have. Take for instance, the Cogil, who resemble the Ancient Fairy. They need to be encouraged by their own kind.
These shy Tenders are hardly ever seen. But I know within myself, that these beautiful Tenders actually exist.
The Great One, very rarely shows himself openly, but, it is very easy to talk to him. By merely talking to Emalf, or one of the Dribydal, or any of the Great One's friends, it will end up, that you were actually talking to him. As Emalf is the closest to the Only One, messages are conveyed quicker.
Each member of the Tender's Company has their own different dialect. Strange as it is, what you think they are saying, is in fact exactly what they are trying to tell you. It's just that you have been too ignorant, to listen to these thoughts before.
That's right!!! I remember now why I was writing to you.
My trip, is going to be longer than planned. I bumped into an old ancestor. Nathaniel Sirrah-Arkey M. Now, that is old. Anyway, all I ask of you, is if you can keep an eye on Garden's well being for me? Thanks.
Until we meet again, the Wanderer.
The Dihpa have scoured the countryside,
They have rewarded me, with what I want to know.
A force on the East Coast, another on the West;
Now I can get on with this, the ultimate show.
Raspitur is creating some new Shadow creatures,
But I can't wait for them to be conceived.
I have learnt from previous mistakes with Garden,
Personally a different goal will be achieved.
I've selected the best of my numerous mobs,
They will soon be on surprise attacks.
I will use them as a diversion for the others,
Whom have renamed themselves as the Maniax.
The Maniax comprise of Shadow Creatures,
All remaining Sorties, Gubs, and many more.
They, like me, bear an insatiable hunger,
For the forthcoming blood, sweat, and gore.
A Modest Tender
I was born to be gentle, yet powerful;
If only the Ancients knew, what I know.
For I am wiser than the Elder Ancients;
Considering I was conceived a million millenniums ago.
I am the youngest of my relations,
However, I have far more important duties.
They range from assisting the blind with light,
To giving enough warmth to the little cuties.
My closest friends, the Nooms, are also Tenders,
In the sense, that they carry out what I do.
Well Not as much, they can be quite lazy,
But I consider them as my nocturnal shoe.
Only one, is greater than myself, Emalf,
Being the Only One, who created me, you as well.
The Great One has many names and faces.
The God of gods, persuader of the infidel.
We are the guardians of the air,
Brothers of the underground Esor.
We show ourselves, only to the believers,
Who see us work without flaw.
Infiltraters, like the Dihpa, are our prey,
Disappearing like songs unsung.
We are the lords of all sight,
Fierce and tireless are our young.
We, the Dribydal, use illusion,
As a means to confuse others,
Making them believe we're harmless,
The Garden's lonely, tranquil lovers.
What a wicked web we weave,
Enticing the Dihpa, completely unaware.
Our dragon kin young, just attack,
Leaving the Dihpa without a prayer.