Four cubic yards worth of crap from Damian’s back garden just got skipped away. There’s still a lot of rubbish to be disposed of, but it’s a start.
Technorati tag: moblog
Spinneyhead’s Tail grows again with another product for use in renders and artwork.
They’re the result of a wander around Chorlon’s huge graveyard that I took last week. I have another set, of alleyways and the like, which should be ready for upload soon.
Boran had been listening to the sounds of battle, unable to judge which way things were going. It was certainly too loud to be just a defence against Janssen’s murder squads, perhaps there had been a full blown rising. The sounds of planes and explosions didn’t fill him with optimism for the rebellions chances. Either way, his chances were slim- rebels would hang him for being part of the occupying forces, the occupying forces would shoot him for helping the rebels.
There were noises from beyond the cell door. Other cells were being opened and, judging by the happy cries that followed, their occupants freed. The jubilation, and occasional shout of anger, drew closer The door two cells down opened, then the one next door.
Boran stood and straightened his clothes the best he could, he at least had to look presentable. Hands clasped behind his back he faced the door. A key turned in the lock and the door was pulled open.
It was dark enough in the corridor that Boran could make out the features of the man before him with ease. “Aylo?”
“Ah, good, you are still alive.”
“I have a proposal for you.”