Thanks for the welcome! I have a decent amount of Zako art from less competent days, I draw whatever inspires me at the time - guards from a SOF II mod, Star Trek redskirts, etc. This sketch is a Crusader vs. female Saracens, the zakos' dress and shitty weaponry are inspired by Eastern Infantry from Rome:Total War. Just some fighting, though in threads on another site I like to write brief stories for context - hell, I'll try. Below is my first attempt at PaintChainer, a coloring AI - might make some bulk work, like comics, easier if I can make it look decent.
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That damned Sir Florent, he'd charged out of their formation to duel a Saracen champion - he'd won, by the Cross on his chest, but his human folly had doomed him to a dozen arrows the instant that God's work through him was finished. A triumph to lift the spirits of the battered sergeants that held the flanks of the column - and a punishment to warn them to stay faithful to the formation. The problem was that the commander had insisted that an effort be made to retrieve Sir Florent's corpse, and Geoffrey had followed his lord out - the Saracens were upon them in moments, he'd been separated, nearly run down by their skirmishers and their ugly cries...
Now with his horse dead of wounds, half-mad with thirst, the lonesome man-at-arms trudged towards the village. God's grace, he could see the village well, a ways from the cluster of dwellings - and Saracens, three of them, guarding the water.
Truly, a Crusader had to earn salvation - he thanked God for the opportunity, for his life to depend upon his blade. The three Saracens advanced upon him, flowing robes, wicker shields, raised spears - dark, flowing hair, females. Back-line troops, making sure the villagers didn't exhaust the well needed for the horses and men...
The first approached with a raised shield - it could hardly be a called a shield, the damn thing was tied together. Geoffrey brought his sword down, smashing through the shield, the spear, and the Saracen girl beyond, nearly splitting her in two. Blood and innards splattered across the sands, the robe ripping and her breasts spilling out.
Not bad, but this is the only way the natives will let you see the damn things, Geoffrey thought with dark humor, the two remaining Saracens recoiling from the brutal ease of his righteous killing. He'd have to be more careful with his sword strokes - after he slaked his thirst, he'd need something less cut apart for a good fuck.
