#Noircraft

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Playing Pandaria makes me think of happier endings in other universes we've created for the Hellscreams.

Grom learned the hard way and wanted to be a father.

Meanwhile, Garrosh is still a shitbird in canon.

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Part of an illustration I am doing to keep myself interested in art (YOU HAVE TO DO STUFF FOR YOURSELF)

Young Garrosh Hellscream part of a band with his highschool mates Jorin Deadeye and Dranosh Saurfang. Punk metal... lots of screaming.

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Update on personal piece

It's ya BOYS! Garrosh, Jorin and Dranosh!

Cannon characters from Warcraft that I lovingly turned into flatmates and band members in Noircraft.

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Want to see more of my orcs? More Hellscreams and Warsong? Support me here  https://www.patreon.com/tangledstrings

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Thrall is known as Ward in this universe. Or Wart by those that bully him. 

Jaina always used to remind him that in Disney’s Sword in the Stone, young Arthur was called Wart, so don’t let the idiots get to him. The joke remains that she must be his Merlin then - since they study all the time together. They are studying magic together being highly gifted he is still discovering where his aptitudes are.

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Yes, Grommash Hellscream. Leader of the Warsong. Father of Garrosh, and mate of Golka.  This is part of a family photo sketch I am trying to get done for #orctober and I managed to fuck it up and have to redo line work and chains... and MC patches. Hell. Grom is my fave orc if anyone is wondering. 

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A younger Golka, mate of Grommash Hellscream. This was from a family photo in an album Golmash holds on to.

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Garona the spy, the assassin, the enforcer of the Shadow Council even in my #Noircraft AU

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Teenage Garrosh

From a photoalbum grandpa Gol has.

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A reminder that I still love my orcs and the Warsong.  Also, Golmash is a perv. But that is another story for another day.

You’re welcome.

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Ressai had a serious dislike for moving into any space with too many orcs. Their idea of personal space was non-existent compared to a human who had faced a few too many pandemics that passed back and forth between the Azerothian and Earthling populations. Voices too low to be imitated by most human throats resonated and rumbled around her over the twangy tunes. The space smelled alive and relatively free of unpleasant scents except for cigar smoke and booze.

She gritted her teeth and slid between the large bodies oblivious to her being there to the back where pool tables rested on concrete bricks - propped up high so the taller species didn’t need to hunch over the little tables. One older orc with a long, shotgun gray braid draped over one rolling shoulder moved with a calculated step as he eyed the felted red table. He held the cue almost daintily in his shovel sized hand as he chalked the tip. His clothes touted Warsong biker patches and his rank - which was high. Although he acted as if he was retired.

 She was dressed like a small dark shadow -so out of place she caught his eye and as he moved behind the cue ball his overgrown eyebrows quirked at her in question, golden eyes squinting. She felt like a mute at that moment. “It’s been a while.” He spoke up in common. “What brings you here this hour?”

“Golmash.” She walked up to the pool table, and rather flatly said, “Rehgar Earthfury sends his respects.”

Golmash’s ears moved back and his top lip curled a little in a sneer. His voice dropping down to a whisper, “Does he now...”

She bowed her head respectfully, crossing her right hand to her left shoulder. The pool table with the only thing the separated them, yet if he decided to take a swing, he still had the arm reach to shatter her jaw. She wasn’t too worried about that. She had a whole audience at her back that could do more damage - and like always - she kept remapping all possible exit strategies. The only thing she had was her wits, speed, and size. This was the part she hated and forcing her tongue to unstick from the roof of her mouth without licking her lips, “I need to talk to you in private.” “If it’s about that grandson of mine...” He growled half to himself in orcish, that tusked jaw working as he focused on his shot at the table. He slunk down behind the cue ball and angled up his shots. The balls cracked and sped around the table and he straightened to hand his stick off to a younger orc. “I’ll be back.” He waved the young woman to the steel double swinging doors that lead to the kitchen and office.

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NOIRcraft - Rugara

Dessa - Warsaw

The gilded hall shook with the force of it. An animalistic bellow. Loud and full of rage. The owner’s voice was male and very much unmistakable: Hellscream. A heartbeat later there was another crash and fighting began.

“Get her into the room.” Rugara’s voice dipped deep, covered with a thin layer of ice. The muscles in her jaw twitched even as invisible hackles rose along her neck and spine. 

“I can look after myself.”  There was defiance in those glowing eyes and a snarl building on those painted lips.The orcess gave her assignment a levelled look, eye-to-eye, as they both stood at the same height, even as the draenai’s horns arched and curled up, away from her crested head and artfully done-up hair.

 “I am sure you can, Aleeria, however, my job is to guard you. Take precautions. If the lines have not been cut, call the police.” Rugara nodded to the coal rimmed wide-eyed human and tuxedoed mok’nathal and they took the Eredar’s elbows, steering her around into the safety of the reinforced room, her tail flicked with annoyance. Gold-tipped hoves making more noise than necessary. Rue watched this ‘fit’ a moment longer, a smirk hiding behind tusk before closing the door behind them.

So much for a peaceful end to a party. So much for an easy job tonight. She looked down at herself and groaned. Lace, metal, and beads hung off her thick frame in such a way she felt like a dappled grey goddess. It was so sumptuous and glittery and so feminine that she felt the urge to strangle the first idiot who crossed her. She spent too much money just for this look to be ruined. If not by a fight certainly by a retreat.

Rue balanced and pulled off her heels slowly, one by one, calculating as her sharp ears caught the battle below in the castle’s ballroom. The Conglomerate would hold their own. There were many well decorated and distinguished fighters in those rooms below. Rue dropped her metallic heels by a large, ornate vase as she investigated her environment and then stood sentry in bare feet.

Seconds seemed to drag into minutes. More bellowing. A man screamed as a wet sound of bone cracked. Heavy footfalls came up the stone stairs, Rugara turned slowly to regard the flickering shadows before their owner’s rounded the corner. 

What rounded the corner were not three male orcs, but something in their shape - large, green, and foreboding. A ruby red sheen flickered like twin pinpoints of fire in her direction and she felt her body go cold. They were Corrupted and she did not recognize them. She sucked a breath in and realized she was baring her teeth.

Where the fuck was Orgrim and Varok when they were needed?

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Forever working on this off and on. Thought to share this tonight.

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Old art getting a workup because the image in my head.

“Welcome back son.” Golmash claps Grommash’s shoulder warmly.

Not sure if and when I will be done this because this is like... my warm-up piece.