Monday, 19 June 2017
Phew! It's too hot to be creative today, so here are some miniatures I recently finished without, alas, the usual nonsense I would usually write to go with them.
First off a Mystic Warrior, kitbashed from a Fireforge man-at-arms body and Mongol head, with arms from the Northstar barbarian kit. He's about to unleash the dreaded two-finger eye poke, a move that took years to master at a secret monastery hidden within the triple peaks of the Three Stuges Mountains. I'm not sure I pulled off the glowing hands look, but hey ho.
Next a pair of Sigilists, which came as an extra in the Forgotten Pacts 'Nickstarter'. I was originally put off painting these, especially the detail on the wizard figure, but I'm actually really pleased with how they came out. I knew I wanted to go for a black and white nun's habit look, and am pleased how the whites don't look dirty and the blacks don't look dusty, which they normally do when I paint them.
Thursday, 15 June 2017
No-one knows from whence the mighty Kornovik, scourge of the barbarian tribes, came – in fact it did not really matter, for all one had to know was that the huge lumbering brute was danger and evil personified.
The powerfully-built outcast lived for carnage, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake as he raged his way across the Northern Wastes. Some tribes knew him as the’ hurricane’, others the ‘earthquake’. To many he was the ‘rhino’, after his penchant for lowering his spiked skull and charging into battle head-first.
It was said that no man could withstand this assault, or a sweep of his mighty club, and the best way to survive an encounter with this oft-cursed brute was to clamber up as high as possible, for Kornovik’s only weak spot was his inability to climb. However even this was no guarantee of safety, for his aim was sure and although the bow he used may have looked comically small in his massive paws, his shooting was deadly.
Shudder then at the mention of his name, for he has ceased whatever dark deeds he has been perpetrating up north and has arrived in the frozen city. Be afraid my friends, be afraid.
Here’s my take on barbarian outcast and all-round bad guy, Kornovik. Now Northstar sells a fantastic model of this guy, riding his bad-tempered woolly rhino, but I had this plastic Battle Masters ogre knocking around (another find from the LAF sprue exchange – I donated plenty of stuff in return, honest!)
So I decided that my version of Kornovik would be an outcast ogre. He fits most of the brief – his horned helm giving him the ‘horned’ trait of the character and his bulk accounting for the ‘limited climb’. As Kornovik is also armed with a bow, I quickly glued one into his fist. It looks stupidly small, but I quite like the idea of him carefully selecting an arrow before daintily drawing back the bowstring with his thumb and little finger! (and if nothing else it saves me twenty five quid!)
Tuesday, 13 June 2017
Sir Gwyllaim the Virtuous gripped his two handed axe as he edged into the dark chamber. Judging by the deep echoes created by his metal sabatons clicking on the flagstones, the room must have been huge. He cursed the noise his armour was making, for it would not be long before the shadowy creatures he had so far managed to evade would zero in on the sound.
Undeterred, the templar stalked out of the passageway and into the chamber. Strange luminous fungi plastered the walls, giving off just enough light to see by – and be seen… He strained his eyes: what was that in the distance? Something large and white? Could it be…? The hairs on the back of Sir Gwyllaim’s neck stood on end as something skittered behind him. It was now or never.
He raced forward as fast as his armour would allow, careless of the clatters that shattered the eerie silence. He squinted… yes! It was the thing he sought – Gods be praised! Before him, raised on a circular stone dais, was the legendary Pale Throne of Jogdusu, said to imbue it’s incumbent with the power of teleportation. In short it was his only ticket out of this hellish place.
He reached the dais just as the creatures poured forth from numerous dark portals that ringed the chamber. Screeching and howling they bounded towards the platform just as Sir Gwyllaim reached the throne, grasping the foul smelling cloth that had been placed on it’s seat. Part of his mind, separate from the bit currently calculating the likelihood of his demise, wondered what kind of creature had claimed the throne as it’s own.
His query was answered in short order as a huge bulk fell roaring from the dark recesses of the ceiling and landed next to the noble warrior, sending him sprawling back off the dais. He struggled to his feet, groping for his axe as the filthy tide of inhumanity engulfed him…
I’ve been looking for a suitable model throne for the Lair of the Ghoul King scenario – one of the next games in our Thaw of the Lich Lord campaign. As luck would have it I found some sort of plastic clip or bracket lying broken on the floor at work which I thought looked vaguely throne-shaped. I also knew that some circular bits of plastic had recently been thrown away, so I salvaged one of these too.
A quick bit of filling, distressing and painting later and I now have a throne and dais for the scenario and of course for general scatter terrain. I tried to scratch some runic shapes on the dais but they haven’t come out very well, and I’ve not been very successful in painting the pink marble look I wanted for the throne, but for a bit of trash-bashing they’re ok.
The figure is a GW High Elf White Lions warrior that I took from the LAF sprue exchange programme, so thanks to whoever donated him!
Monday, 12 June 2017
With a drunken roar and stagger they blundered into the throng. Otherwise brave and hardened warriors stood back in awe, for they were infamous, dangerous and unpredictable. They were the berserkers.
While others contented tested their mettle in the unending cycle of tribal squabbling, these restless warriors of renown had gone south as soon as the spires of the ancient city began to peek forth from the ice. Such was their love of battle that they had hired themselves out to the foreign bands that ventured into the frozen ruins.
While their paymasters desired gold and treasure, they fought for glory and adventure. However they had now returned to the tribal lands, for even the most manic berserker, blood-crazed and gore-ridden, had heard the call through the red mist.
And so the barbarian clans had gathered, sharpening their weapons and boasting of great deeds to come as the shamen sang songs of the promises they must keep and the gods they must honour. Now they were ready and so, by instinct rather than by command, the horde went south to the frozen city.
Some more barbarians from the Northstar plastic box set (give or take the occasional piece from other sprues) in the form of berserkers (the barbarian version of the barbarian troop type, if that makes sense!)
I’ve had more fun painting these than other plastics, which says a lot for the kits, and have plans to knock up some archers in the future. However for now I have all the barbarians I need for the Forgotten Pacts supplement, when I eventually get around to playing it!