#coltaine of the crow clan

[chloristoflora]

"And the feather you wear... to honour Coltaine?"

"To honour Coltaine, yes. But that is because I must. Coltaine did what he was expected to do. He did nothing that was beyond his abilities. I honour him, yes, but Duiker... Duiker was different." He scowled and shook his head. "He was old, older than you. Yet he fought. When fighting was not even expected of him - I know this to be true, for I knew Coltaine and Bult and I heard them speak of it, of the historian. I was there when Coltaine drew the others together, all but Duiker. Lull, Bult, Chenned, Mincer. And all spoke true and with certainty. Duiker would lead the refugees. Coltaine even gave him the stone the traders brought-"

"The stone? What stone?"

"To wear about his neck, a saving stone, Nil called it. A soul trapper, delivered from afar. Duiker wore it, though he liked it not, for it was meant for Coltaine, so that he would not be lost. Of course, we Wickans knew he would not be lost. We knew the crows would come for his soul. The elders who have come, who hound me so, they speak of a child born to the tribe, a child once empty, then filled, for the crows came. They came."

"Coltaine has been reborn?"

"He has been reborn."

"And Duiker's body disappeared," Strings muttered. "From the tree."

"Yes! And so I keep his horse for him, for when he returns. I rode with him, Fiddler!"

House of Chains, by Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen #4)

[juddgeeksout]

Band of Blades, first mission

Picker began to turn back to her companions — when the man began speaking. ‘Very well, permit me, if you will, on this night. To break your hearts once more. This is the story of the Chain of Dogs. Of Coltaine of the Crow Clan, newly come Fist to the 7th Army.. Memories of Ice Forged in the Dark games have lots of moving parts. We traded position for effect, rolled a Resistance roll, handed out…

[corporal-nobbs]

‘Coltaine of the Crow Clan’

[chloristoflora]

Duiker could have sworn that Coltaine looked up then, lifted his gaze to greet that gift, as the iron head impacted his forehead, shattered the bone, sank deep into his brain and killed him instantly. His head snapped back between the spars of wood, then the arrow was through.

The warriors on the barrow's slopes flinched back.

The crows shook the air with their eerie cries and plunged down towards the sagging figure on the cross, sweeping over the warriors crowding the slopes. The sorcery that battered at them was shunted aside, scattered by whatever force - Coltaine's soul? - now rose to join the birds.

The cloud descended on Coltaine, swallowing him entire and covering the cross itself - at that distance they were to Duiker like flies swarming a piece of flesh.

And when they rose, exploding skyward, the warleader of the Crow Clan was gone.

(...)

The crows were gone, the crossed spars of wood stood empty, rising above the masses with their blood-streaked shafts.

Overhead, the sky had begun to die.

Deadhouse Gates, by Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen #2)

[chloristoflora]

Picker could not pull her eyes from the man. He sat hunched over, on a chair that had yet to find a table, still clutching in his hands the small rag of tattered cloth on which something had been written. The alchemist had done all he could to return life to what had been a mostly destroyed, desiccated body, and Baruk's talents had been stretched to their limits - there was no doubt of that.

She knew of him, of course. They all did. They all knew, as well, where he had come from.

He spoke not a word. Had not since the resurrection. No physical flaw kept him from finding his voice, Baruk had insisted.

The Imperial Historian had fallen silent. No-one knew why.

(...)

"Sure," Spindle snapped, "a story to break our hearts all over again! What's the value in that?"

A rough, broken voice replied, "There is value."

Everyone fell silent, turned to Duiker.

The Imperial Historian had looked up, was studying them with dark eyes. "Value. Yes. I think, much value. But not yours, soldiers. Not yet. Too soon for you. Too soon."

"Perhaps," Baruk murmured, "perhaps you are right in that. We ask too much-"

"Of them. Yes." The old man looked down once more at the cloth in his hands.

The silence stretched.

Duiker made no move.

Picker began to turn back to her companions - when the man began speaking. "Very well, permit me, if you will, on this night. To break your hearts once more. This is the story of the Chain of Dogs. Of Coltaine of the Crow Clan, newly come Fist to the 7th Army..."

Memories of Ice, by Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen #3)

[corporal-nobbs]

Hello, first I want to say I really like your art. Second I want to ask you if you've ever drawn Coltaine of the crow clan in the black and grey style since as I see you're a big fan of the malazan series. Hope you'll answer me and thank you.

Hey there, Thanks :)

I haven’t posted one of him, I have tried to draw him a few times, but I just can’t seem to get him right. I finished a reread of DG a little while ago, I really should have another go while it’s still fresh.