Goblin

For this piece I had two agendas. The first was technical: I wanted to make something a little complicated, pushing for an impossible or unbalanced physical structure on the armature. The second, and the more interesting one, was the expression. I wanted a minimalist character whose face alone tells a whole story. I don't know if I fully captured what I envisioned (I was working from a reference that I love), but here is the scene as it exists in my head.

Some context on the world: goblins are physically unimpressive. They survive by swarming in masses, and even then they aren't very successful against bigger creatures.

If you let him tell it, he was visiting a hybrid town (humans, goblins, etc.), saw a bounty posted for a local monster, and in one illogical minute of bravery decided to track the beast down and challenge it single-handedly. And somehow he won. At least, that is how he tells it. There were no witnesses, so we have no idea what actually happened.

The sculpture captures the exact second he arrives at the goblin-village tavern. It's late at night and the tavern is dimly lit by candles. He could have gone straight to the bounty board in the hybrid town to collect his reward, but he took a big detour back to his own village instead. He opens the door indiscreetly. He doesn't lean his weapon against the wall or put his trophy aside. He steps right into the middle of the room with a giant eyeball still dangling from his hunting spear, making sure everyone sees.