Red male

When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold -Atmosphere

To be Black video
Red male
encairion
I made a video for my story "To be Black"  Its a mix between a trailer and fan video since it pretty much tells the whole story *g*
This one has the original audio track, but of course it was copyrighted for you tube.  You can downloaded, but it will take longer :((

www.mediafire.com/


And here's the alternative version.



More practice drawings! Another Erion, Green Elves, and Lindir
Red male
encairion
Well I am trying to get better :(  Here are some more amateur drawings lol!  The first two are green elves from the upcoming chapter of 'The Price of Duty' The next is another go at Erion, and the last is a rather feminine looking Lindir as I see him in   'The Price of Duty'







Artist: Encairion  'Green elf'
Artist: Encairion 'Green elf'

A green elf from my story 'The Price of Duty'

I tried to make his skin a little darker, but my shading needs some help lol!  But he SHOULD look like he has coppery skin ;)
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Spirit of Fire
Boudica Modern- by quickreaver
encairion








Spirit of Fire
Spirit of Fire

Spirit of Fire by neffinesse


This pic for me embodies the idea of Fëanor as a spirit of fire.  It brings the image of eyes as hard as diamonds and burning fires to new life. (click to get a closer look that gives those eyes justice lol!)

I just love neffinesse's work.  She's one of my favorite Tolkien artists :D  I had never remotely seen how a Legolas/Gimli pairing worked until I saw her 'After Battle' simply exquisite! And only the tip of the ice berg in her work ;)
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The Price of Duty 5/?
Erestor
encairion
 The Price of Duty 
Chapter 5

North of Ossiriand Beleriand, Year 472 First Age

I trudged through the rain washed camp.  Even my elven feet could not avoid the sucking mud; my boots seemed to have a permanent inch of filth upon them.  It had been raining for the last three days as if the gods cried with us for the thousands now residing in Mandos’s Halls.  Had it only been ten days since the battle?  It seemed eternity.  Already it had been named the Nírnaeth Arnoediad (The Battle of Unnumbered Tears).  So many had ridden out, and so few had returned. Treachery. Betrayal.   
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The Death of a Star -Re-post
Red male
encairion
 The Death of a Star
 
 
I dreamed of fire, and shadow. I dreamed of death. My father’s death, my grandfather’s death, my death. So I dreamed ever night for the last seven years. It was easy to brush the dream off. Who would not dream on death in this Valar forsaken plain? 
 
We have been fighting for what seems eternity, but I know it is not. The War of Wrath had been years longer, so why did this battle seem a thousand times worse? Perhaps it was because of my youth then. Barley one hundred years when the army's of the west came to save us poor exiles. I was not so young now. I knew what was at stake, and I knew the likelihood of our defeat. Why had I seemed invincible then? With the Valar at our backs I had foolishly thought death could not touch us. I knew better now. 
 
I have not seen the stars for seven months two weeks and four days. The air I breathe is poison. And I shall die here, on this blackened plain. How did it come to this?
 
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Maeglin- Fallen Star video
Red male
encairion
I made another video :D You tube erased the music -Within Temptation: Angles-  so I uploaded it on mediafire (Thanks Spiced Wine for showing me the sight :))


The House of Fëanor
Red male
encairion
I made this video on Fëanor and fam. If anyone's interested. A combination of three loves: Tolkien, music, and art! Can't get better then that! I've never linked anything before, so we'll see how this works.

Míriel 's Task
Red male
encairion
Míriel 's Task
 
“And Míriel has dwelt ever since in the house of Vairë, and it is her part to record there the histories of the kin of Finwë and all the deeds of the Noldor.”- 'Morgoth's Ring' 
 
She watched.
 
The orcs lanced what remained of the proud house of Fëanor up on a crude pike. The body had been burned, whipped, beaten, starved, branded, raped, mutilated beyond recognition. 
 
She had listened to his screams. Her great-grandson, the last of her line. 
 
And he had screamed. The proud blood of Finwë flowed thickly threw his veins, but no amount of pride could have sealed his cracked lips in the end. His tormented cries still rang in the stillness, all the more loudly for they made her recall the screams of another tormented soul. Her grandson Maedhros. 
 
She had listened to his screams too, watched his torment, and rescue, but there would be no heroic rescue for this child of Fëanor. He was the last. Was it fitting that the last of that house die broken and ruined? Was it fitting his death, like all the others be bereft of honor? There would be no songs of Celebrimbor, telling of his valiant deeds. They would not sing of the orcs he slew to protect the city he had helped build. There would be no tales of his dark death, defiant until the end. Scream he had, cried in his madness for mercy, cried tears for his nana when they raped him. Cursed his ada when they burned him, but never a word did he tell of the three. The elven rings. 
 
'
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