What's On Your Table: To submit your work, please send up to 8 pics to natfka@live.com

Hi Natfka.
Just finished this conversion and painjob on my tale of Drycha Hamadreth for my Bog Sylvaneth. Really chuffed with how she has come out. Written a short Narrative piece as well to flesh out her back story a bit as well


-NafNaf

Also more pics on my blog (and more of the army project too)
http://objectivesecured.blogspot.com/2018/08/drycha-hamadreth-conversion-painted.html

Once beautiful and pure, a shining light among the folk of her village she was. Folk came from miles around to see and visit her, to hear her speak such wonders their minds were lifted, and the misery of their lives were forgotten for a short while.


One day the witch hunters came, foul smelling humans who reeked of their fear and prejudice. She sensed them coming, her mind tuning in to the darkness surrounding them. Why had they come? 

No mercy did they show, when she was dragged back from her bold escape attempt. She was lashed to a tree, thorns inserted under the nails on her hands and feet, stakes driven through each knee. Hanging they left her, after they had purified her with their 'righteous' lust. Her crime? weaving mysteries through song, foretelling the future for those who asked it of her, healing the sick with herbs and remedies she foraged from the surrounding forest.

A spark of life was left her still, and she summoned up the last of her power to unbind the lashes that held her to the rotting tree. She fell, breaking her legs as she landed. Sobbing she crawled deeper into the forest, where she hid for days, nursing her wounds and feeding from the roots around her. 

Deeper she crawled each day, her subconscious mind called by a whisper, constant in the darkness. Hunger grew, as the forest became rotted and monstrous in form around her. still she went on, drawn ever closer to the whisper.

She came eventually to an open area, which once must have been a beautiful glade, filled with life and bounty. Now it stank, all life bent and twisted towards the central tree, massive in its corruption.
Beneath it lay a bloated corpse, vines creeping through its orifices as it rotted away. While she looked, the whisper increased into a crescendo of screams. mind in terror, and driven by an inexplicable force she crawled towards the body upon the floor, thrusting herself into the gaping hole in its stomach. The noise stopped, and peace descended upon her. Quietly she lay for days, like a Maggot feasting upon the flesh, gorging herself until she could take no more, Then she slept......,

......She is ready, they whispered.........

........BRING HER TO ME, the Mother replied.........





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