Krulag the Barbarian

Hello everyone!

This started like a sculpting and texturing exrecise, but, at the end, became… Krulag the barbarian! :,D

Made with Blender 3D 2.83 beta, Cycles Render, Substance Painter and Adobe Photoshop

Here it is a little intro about this character Here it is a little intro about this character

Happy Blending!

As tiring as the day had been, Krulag the barbarian loved the guard duty.

Especially alone.

In those moments, with the crackling writhing fire and the placid lullaby of the dark, the ogre stroked the worn axe, his sharp senses ready to shoot and …

Here she is.

He looked up to the sky and she was always there.

Large, placid and dazzling.

The Moon.

And when she was tinged with red as that night, Krulag could not help but gaze in ecstasy.

A strange excitement pervaded him, his temples throbbed and

He remembered.

The primitive drum roll.

As obsessive as the fierce spasms of the dance of the tribe that surrounded the bonfire.

The fetid regurgitations of the shaman, drunk and intoxicated with his herbs, who grunted disjointed and ranted his stories to the puppies.

To the large and innocent eyes of little Krulag, the narration of the old man, cadenced by burps and full of insults, appeared a rude, bewitching and beautiful lyric. He loved in particular to listen to the fury of the Anger God and how he had smeared the Moon with blood, eating with the bowels of his enemies, flooding the craters with scarlet streams, pouring abundantly from his jaws …

- Krulag.

The orc turned his head towards the voice.

- It’s time for a change, my friend. Go to rest, you must be tired.

The barbarian grunted and, with a rough nod of thanks, dropped heavily on his bed.

With his axe beside him, brushing the blood-encrusted metal with his fingers, Krulag continued to look at the sky and slowly closed his eyes.


He sank his hands into the soft skulls of his enemies

He fed on their damp entrails

bit into

tore the flesh from their bones and

He roared!

In an infinite cycle of

angry and relentless joy

a macabre dance



that the orchish soul, the ground and, perhaps one day, even would have imbued it with vermilion fury

the Moon…

He smiled.

Tomorrow would have been a wonderful day.