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Pocket-sized art with more uses than you can wave a Bic at. Birthdays, thanks yous, Valentines or even Wednesdays, there’s always an occasion for a stunning card. From promotional weapon to distant friend-contactor, our cards are more versatile than Optimus Prime.
Cards are designed to suit the most common image ratio of 3:2, but any image size can be printed—we just leave a white border.
Prince Rattus the important, returns to the old city to collect taxes from the citizens. Riding the dinosauric Munchasaur, he knew he would meet little resistance.
alien, beast, brown, fi, mauve, monster, power, purple, red, riding, sci, scifi, travel, yellow
My artwork ranges from the traditional, to the slightly offbeat.
With the wildlife and landscape, paintings, I like a more photo-realistic approach, with light, colour, emotion and a sense of space, being key components.
My cartoons are a little quirky, with themes and styles varying according to mood.
My Website http://www.tomgodfrey.com.au
Awsome You have the coolest style to you art NICE work Tom.
I’m glad you like it Cliff, thanks for the support.
Yep, not suprised at all that this dude would be getting a free ride through the city!
one word to describe all your artwork: FANTAWESOMELICIOUS
He occassionally wondered if he enjoyed the taxes more or simply collecting them, there really was something particularly satisfying about taking that last deem from a widow especially if her husband had died in one or other of the many wars of the previous millenia.
But this time something was different, for deep in the old city a prophecy was being fulfilled; the most ancient prophecy of all, a new king was being crowned. And it was not just any king but one whose thirst for justice was at least as strong as Rattus’s blood lust and whose own weapons, while much more subtle, were no less strong. Rattus sensed none of this as he spurred Munchasaur down the Lane of Sculls ….
In the ancient crypt, far beneath the pounding feet of the Munchasaur, an energy stirred, nurtured and protected over time by the keepers of hope. The king was returning, his incorporeal body was condensing. His vibrations were slowed to match those of this plane; silhouetted figures knelt in a circle, on cold carved stone, pointing shaped rock crystals towards the centre of the fiery transformation.
“Slowly, slowly”, hissed the master keeper, some metres away. “We cannot rush this part or all may be lost.”
The crystal manipulators were tuned effortlessly, as if controlled by one mind and the lightning bursts seemed to flow more coherently, forming a pink blue dome over the still formless mass. Above, a spinning golden vortex slowed and started to take shape.
“The crown of Zargor”, they whispered with growing intensity, “The crown of Zargor”
The once dark walls of the secret place now glowed and cast shadows moved eerily, like wax models coming to life. The crypt continued to brighten and even the shadows vanished. The words were no longer whispered, but now pulsed with power…."Zargor, Zargor..Zaaarrrrgooor "
and the story continues …
At first it was impossible to isolate any features or form in the brightness. None of the faithful even dared to raise their eyes to witness that which they had hoped and dreamed about for so long. But then a strong, quiet voice was “heard”. Or at least experienced for already the time of noise and clamour was coming to and end among the faithful as they returned to their true state of simple understanding. And the understanding they were given was simple to stand, hold hands and lift their eyes.
And what they witnessed was beyond simple comprehension. Once the King was simply glorious and deeply calming. The new king, for indeed he was new, evoked something even beyond awe. When Rattus’s long-ago ancestor had betrayed the King, injuring beyond words His soul, he had started a transformation of unimaginable consequences. The King had lain quietly enduring all his people’s suffering for so many generations. The terrible pain of being betrayed by his closest, and most beloved son, had left him without even the smallest hint of hope to ease the anguish. But somewhere deep, beyond where any thought it may be found, he had discovered something which was not evil, not despair. It wasn’t quite hope, but it seemed like the promise of hope. And this had been just enough.
So the King was returning. Those who saw him then, swear they seemed to see in his face every face they had ever known. They swear he smiled with every joyous smile they had ever experienced. Some say they even heard the loving laughter of a lost child or the felt the caress of a long dead lover. Those who were there then were never to be truly sad again.
But these things cannot last, and the new Zargor stepped out of the brightness (or maybe the brightness stepped out of him) and he could be more clearly seen. He gave a simple command, completely understood by the faithfull …
Your style is timeless…….