A-HA FINALLY I GOT THIS DONE
Click the image to get to the larger view and close-up details.
And - hey, you’ve seen me weeping over the spirit of machismo who crept into the character on the first sketches xD Hope the final image looks okay :3Took me two days (eh, nights, actually… and one huge, dark, R-rated Scottish audiobook as the working soundtrack)) to finish this one. Meant this both as an illustration, a portrait of my favourite Pratchett’s character, and a present for one of my friends who loves him, as well.
So…
Lord Havelock Vetinari, the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork © The Discworld by Terry Pratchett.
Painted in Corel Painter IX, text and slight colour shading added in Photoshop.
holy shit.
happy hogswatch! i hope you’re all jolly and possibly holly and other things ending in -olly.
Terry Pratchett’s “The Hedgehog Can Never Be Buggered At All” (Martian Compilation) [x]
The spines on his back are too sharp for a man,
They’ll give you a pain in the worst place they can.
The result I think you’ll find will appall:
For the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
[James’ top ten Discworld characters.] #4: Esme Weatherwax.
“There’s no grays, only white that’s got grubby. I’m surprised you don’t know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.”
[…]
“You can’t go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it’s just a cage.”
WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HADN’T SAVED HIM?
“Yes! The sun would have risen just the same, yes?”
NO.
“Oh, come on. You can’t expect me to believe that. It’s an astronomical fact.”
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
She turned on him. “It’s been a long night, Grandfather! I’m tired and I need a bath! I don’t need silliness!”
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
“Really? Then what would have happened, pray?”
A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD.
Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues. He had a jaundiced view of Clues.
He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way.
And he distrusted the sort of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen and in fact got seasick on wet pavement.