"...on all sides round
As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd onely to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed
With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd"
Milton, Paradise Lost, Book I
In our arrogance we tear holes in the sky, rip through into the void in order to travel from world to world. Our trade, our wars, our very existence is based upon our violation of the roiling beauty that is the Warp. And we think there will not be a price? I speak not of the Chaos godlings, twisted shades of our desires. But the Void itself, that eternal, watchful nothingness... It will exact a cost. From all of us.
This is the Anarch Prelate of the Voidwalkers.
A pure kitbash using bits from all over the shop. I am quite happy with the face on this one and the use of various weathering techniques. This is probably the most Blanche style painting I've done.
I'm happy with this one as I feel he oozes some character.