Mad Lemmey's Painting Blog

As the Golden Hour slowly faded to dusk, the Fox Force was settling down in their camp for the night. A series of ruins in a small glade had attracted them, on a fine pavement and an ancient mosaic had distracted the mage. A nearby well had provided a welcome drink, while the fire crackled and sang. Little did they know that they had been followed to this locale by a band called the 'Regulators', Royalists, led by the notorious swords dog, Rufus The Hound, but missing their muscle of Hartley Hare. "It fascinates me, how these creatures could ever have survived.." She mused about the figures depicted on the mosaic, as the warrior fox prodded the fire and the rest of the force busied themselves getting ready to cook and rest after many miles on the road.  The ranger sat up suddenly, whiskers and nose twitching, ears scanning the horizon, "Grab your gear, we have company!" Scrambling to reach the long chest in which all their equipment had been stored, the Rang...

Looking out over a valley, a small settlement nestled below them. Three dog foxes lay in the sunshine while two Vixens sat, back to them, looking at the view  "It was a nice little village that," the Ranger tossed a pebble down the hill. "Pity three other gangs thought the same" the scared vixen mage grinned.  "The badgers, yuck, four of them!"  "It was the Royalists of der Valk's Persuaders.that did the hurt to us though," the Mage ignited the falling pebble, then froze it in mid-air with a flick of her paws.  "They were a tough bunch those  Dutch Royalists, at least three zweihanders, one being an otter," the Ranger mused  "Think my noble brother was more concerned about the badgers coming in from our left. The Brockton Militia was holding a grudge against us," the Mage pointed a withered hand back at the three snoring fox warriors, some with what appeared to be plasters on fresh cuts and scratches.  "They should ha...

Four foxes sat around a campfire, roasting something on a spit and drinking from goblets as the sun dipped low beneath the far off Northymbrian Hills in an orange sheen. A fifth rolled , turned and tossed under a blanket in an open fronted tent facing the fire. They had not adjourned to the nearest inn, as was their plan, but sat under the sunset and the first few twinkling stars in the distance. "Will she be alright?" The fox rogue looked up from his tankard, wiping away a few flecks of froth from his whiskers. "Who knows?" The knight looked up, and returned his eyes to where he was polishing dents and scratches out of his armour. "My sister is a little delicate, but after what she suffered with the Necromancers though, she should pull through this." "Taking on three fully armoured badgers, whose brilliant idea was that?" the archeress grinned wickedly as she turned some meat on the spit between cleaning arrowheads. "I had been tracking th...