Lucas was tired of searching through the rubble. Sick of wearing the damned armor. Heavy, old and barely functioning, he knew it was the only thing keeping him alive. The only thing keeping him human.
The crackle of static hissed in his ear before he heard Fergus' grating voice cut through. "Legionnaire! What's that sound?"
"Sir? I don't..." And there it was. A chittering, screeching hum...
Images by Travis Nash. All rights reserved.
A member of the XVIIIth Expedition to the Hub.
Equipped with KataphractOs pattern armor. The Armor was designed for use by the American Hegemony during the waning days of the South American proscriptions. Designed primarily for urban combat and population suppression. The means for creating this armor were thought to have been lost after the collapse of the Hegemony and the Global scouring that followed. However, the Black Eagle tribe has managed to take and refit one of the factories that produced this armor. This recent development has allowed them to mount another expedition into the wastes that surround the hub, while also securing their dominant position among the various techno-barbarian tribes that fight over the scraps in the wastes.
In the depths of the Hub lies a cabal of creatures, once scientists, tragically dedicated only to the pursuit of knowledge at any cost. Whispers of what they were echo throughout the empty streets of the hub and in the artefacts that foolish scavengers seek. They are the boogeymen, coming for the unwary in the night. Limbs, organs, lives, taken for the pursuit of some byzantine purpose. What happens in their laboratories is known only to them, for those who are brought in never come out.
Images by Travis Nash. All rights reserved.
No one is born a pyrokine. The initiation rituals are long painful affairs. Months of occult surgeries, perversions of science left over from the days of the Hegemony, scar the novices' bodies and minds. They are changed into something else. Something greater than human, but much worse. This is only the first step on a raid that leads to damnation and fire.
Images by Travis Nash. All rights reserved.
A battle scene set in the grim future of Warhammer 40,000.
Poster image created for a charity gaming event . All funds directed raised were contributed to the Center Against Domestic Violence.
He was tired of searching. Ten years of trekking across hostile wilderness searching for her, searching for every clue, anything that would lead him to her. The others laughed at him. They told him he would never find her. It was simple they said, 'you can't find something that doesn't exist'. He didn't care about the others. He knew she was out there, waiting, hoping for someone, anyone to stumble across her. He was different though, he wouldn't be some wanderer accidentally stumbling upon her. No, he had purpose. She was his to find.
The armor was uncomfortable. He didn't like wearing it unless it was absolutely necessary and it was. These woods were filled with the bodies of those who had been less cautious. He was close now and he knew it, he could feel it deep down. The air was right. The way the light was swallowed up by the trees above, matched the stories he read. Now all he had to do was get to her.
He made his way through the forest carefully at first, and then, impatiently he urged his mount on faster. So close! So very close... And then he was upon her! She was so close to him now. So lonely, kneeling in the midst of ruined stones and creeping vines. He dismounted, tossing his helmet aside.
He was staring at her ruined face when she came alive.
"The Forest was dark and hot. The trees, gnarled ancient things, intent on blocking our every path. The stifling air was quiet, dampened sound swirling into a single pulsating bass note, like the beating of a dark heart..."
Original Piece
A Quixotic figure, Lord Hugo wanders the land in search of adventure and his long lost family heirloom: the Bone of Ages.
Images by Travis Nash. All rights reserved.
A Quixotic figure Lord Hugo wanders the land in search of adventure and his long lost family heirloom the bone of ages.
Piggy le small...thief, archer, and small time comedian.
Karsk was a gem, a jewel shining out in the desert, but that was before he came. Now it is ashes and stone, crumbling to dust.
Original artwork.
Image by Travis Nash. All rights reserved
Unbent, unbowed, and broken.
Image by Travis Nash. All rights reserved.