This is my final submission. I had a lot of fun creating the character. For me it was a special challenge because I have never created a complete human character before (sculpting, texturing, compositing was new to me). I learned a lot from the challenge. Thank you very much for this wonderful challenge.
The story about my character, which my friend and I wrote, can be found at the end of the post. Take a little bit of time and dive into the world of my character Nazuri
The important Data:
Poly count: 74.839
Textures: 2x 4K
WIP: [Warlock Challenge] - [Nazuri the good warlock]
My final Render:
A other perspective:
Front and Backview:
The rings around the charackter are planes:
The Story: (a big Thanks to my best Friend to help me whith this story, she is amazing)
This is Nazuri, of the tribe.dark warlock She struggles a lot with herself because she realized that she doesn’t like the dark craft of the tribe and when she loses a friend to the brutality of the tribe her decision is final: The tribe Vakaipa is no longer her home!
But how could she do that?
Escape is not an option.
But alone against the entire tribe? Impossible!
Nazuri has already seen a witch who turned to good, despised by her tribe and, as custom demands, cruelly sacrificed in a duel against the strongest witch of the tribe during the next full moon during the cleansing ritual.
At 18 years of age, Nazuri may be more experienced than before, but will she be able to defy black magic as taught in the tribe with her own magic?
At this thought she becomes aware of how hopeless it all seems.
Nevertheless she is determined to defend herself.
Khian shouldn’t have died in vain, and besides, if she doesn’t put an end to all this, who will?
Questions after questions buzzed through her mind while she sat at the old bog.
Her head ached with self-doubt.
But one thing Nazuri made clear: “I will not become like them! I don’t have to be like the tribe demands! I can change everything!”
She stood up abruptly, took a few steps towards the dark waters, dipped her hands into the grey, cool mud and looked at her reflection.
This black shoulder-length hair. Typical Vakaipa.
Suddenly she could no longer suppress her anger. Why did she have to remember everything about this tribe, about Khian and this compulsion through this given life? Why couldn’t she just be free?
Tears tore the perfect surface of the water below her and drew long waves across her reflection.
Re-awakened by frustration, Nazuri’s rage and desperate thirst for action broke over her.
She pulled her hands out of the mud and ran her fingers through her hair.
Nazuri wanted to get rid of it, everything that reminded her of this tribe!
One hand after the other she reached into the mud again and pushed it into her hair.
When her frustration finally subsided, the black of her hair was no longer visible under the white dried mud.
Almost in awe she looked at the white hair while she cleaned her hands on her cape.
“I can change everything,” Nazuri repeated resolutely, turning away from the old bog and going to pay her former tribe their last visit.
Now she was sure.