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From the journal of Sworn Shield (water-damaged):
"The would-be assassins were quick and possessed of a mad determination. Even now, I am not sure what drew my eye to them in the crowd. The instant that followed will burn forever in my mind, crisp and hard-edged as a brand in wood, every aspect of it preserved in perfect detail. The first assassin raised a bow, and with horn magic he drew his aim. The second sprang like a panther, dagger in his teeth and a sword close behind.
I will never know how I got my own sword free in time, or how it came to be that his thrust was glanced away while mine struck home. [...] ran him through [...] my sword wrenched from my teeth with such violence that the hilt bindings came away in tatters, and [...] dagger again and again [...] old Half Buckle Halfheart was just behind us, and the arrow meant for the King took him in the throat. My own wounds were hardly fatal, but to my shame I could not so much as rise, even while Buckle, barely [...] move his jaw for the shaft beneath [...] died within the hour [...]
[...] no mistaking them, such words as no pony should ever speak. [...] war cry of the deer."
"The would-be assassins were quick and possessed of a mad determination. Even now, I am not sure what drew my eye to them in the crowd. The instant that followed will burn forever in my mind, crisp and hard-edged as a brand in wood, every aspect of it preserved in perfect detail. The first assassin raised a bow, and with horn magic he drew his aim. The second sprang like a panther, dagger in his teeth and a sword close behind.
I will never know how I got my own sword free in time, or how it came to be that his thrust was glanced away while mine struck home. [...] ran him through [...] my sword wrenched from my teeth with such violence that the hilt bindings came away in tatters, and [...] dagger again and again [...] old Half Buckle Halfheart was just behind us, and the arrow meant for the King took him in the throat. My own wounds were hardly fatal, but to my shame I could not so much as rise, even while Buckle, barely [...] move his jaw for the shaft beneath [...] died within the hour [...]
[...] no mistaking them, such words as no pony should ever speak. [...] war cry of the deer."
Image size
2316x2281px 2.7 MB
Make
Canon
Model
MX410 series
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Comments22
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The way you have done this illustration is awesome, it could be a comic cover.