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Description
"Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees."

---The Two Towers, chapter 2

My image of the moment when Aragorn Legolas and Gimli find themselves encircled by the Riders of Rohan has stuck in my head, more or less unchanged, since I first read TTT, I'd always wanted to see it rendered as a painting. What I'd hoped to capture here (and only partially succeeded, in my estimation) was a feel for both the land and people of Rohan, and for the moment itself; the tension between the rushing horses and the stable trio, like the calm eye in a spiraling storm, the power and motion of that foremost horse, the endless flat plain and vast, vaulted sky of the riddermark.

Description
"Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees."

---The Two Towers, chapter 2

My image of the moment when Aragorn Legolas and Gimli find themselves encircled by the Riders of Rohan has stuck in my head, more or less unchanged, since I first read TTT, I'd always wanted to see it rendered as a painting. What I'd hoped to capture here (and only partially succeeded, in my estimation) was a feel for both the land and people of Rohan, and for the moment itself; the tension between the rushing horses and the stable trio, like the calm eye in a spiraling storm, the power and motion of that foremost horse, the endless flat plain and vast, vaulted sky of the riddermark.