"The first thing that struck him was the change of colour. He couldn’t be sure if it was his eyes. The sky was so pale, with almost no tone but with a blazing heat that bore down upon him and prickled his aching skin. The land around his prone body was parched, the dirt a dusty red and cracked. Slowly he regained his feet and closed his eyes with weakness as he felt down his body. His armour was intact, his regal scepter lay beside him and the sword of his ancients hung from his belt, generations of Goblin Kings before him had hefted the sword and scepter. Both were engraved with a dozen fables of the legendary deeds of his ancestors. Whatever the wizards had done to him, his possessions had been through the same ordeal but remained unscarred." 4.5 inches Acrylic and spray paint
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