Search This Blog

Saturday, December 31, 2011

WoC Update: Avatars of Wulfrik Pt 1

For the last couple of days now, I’ve been working on preparing yet another hero model to add to my Chaos Army.  This is a model that I bought a year or two back when it was first released by Avatars of War.  The model’s pose, the eye-catching armour and the realistic sizing of the weapons immediately caught my attention and was subsequently purchased in a fit of impulsiveness that characterises all my Warhammer spending to date. 

Starting out with the base model, I’ve removed the tab so he can be fitted to a resin base.  One of the cooler things about this model is that it comes with a range of weapon options that you can use to arm your Warrior.  I’ve chosen to give him a shield and an axe as Wulfrik is armed with a Hand Weapon and Shield.

With the model built, it was time to try out the Liquid Green Stuff to see how well it would work with metal models.  After successfully using the Liquid Green Stuff (LGS) on resin models, there was some concern about just how well would it work when used on metal.  Thankfully, this concern was unfounded and the LGS went on without a hitch.  As can be seen in the pictures above (and below), there are aspects on the  model's wrist and head that have received some attention and it has integrated itself seamlessly with the remainder of the model.

With the assembly done, it was time to undercoat.  There’s a decent chunk of armour on this model, so I’ve base coated the entire model Bronze to make my life a little easier.  A quick highlight and a wash or two will complete the armour while the flesh will take a little bit of extra effort. 

With the base coat is done, and some of the base coat colours applied to the model and washed, the miniature quickly approaching a sound table-top quality.  As I'm currently involved in a challenge to have this model painted by the end of the month, you can be assured this will not be the last you’ll see of him.  I have plans to finish the detail work shortly, but for now, my attention is needed elsewhere.

Catch you all later


Monday, December 19, 2011

Campaign Update: Palisades Pt. 2

When planning my time off last month, I had such grand plans for my wargaming hobby.  Terrain days, painting sessions and gaming events were all lined up and ready to go just waiting for me to return from the beach and get the ball rolling.  Then Skyrim was the released and all those plans went out the window.  Instead of days filled with the tinkling of paintbrushes being washed out and the soft grating of a utility knife cutting through balsa and possibly the occasional Xbox session with Oblivion; my week was filled with Dragons, Daedra and the surprisingly soothing cycle of Smithing and Enchanting all manner of weapons, armour and jewellery (when I’m not romping through the varied countryside of Skyrim that is).

Thankfully, despite this unforeseen hijacking of my semi-planned hobby bonanza, I still managed to find some time to work on my ever-growing set of fortifications.  Using the time I’ve allocated wisely, I’ve gotten to work quickly, intent on getting as much done in the short amount of time I’ve managed to allocate the project. 

One of the things I quickly learned was that measuring everything and marking it out all over the foam is very important if you don’t have a hot wire cutter of some description.  As I don’t have a spare $100 lying around to buy a hot foam knife, I’ve been using a heavy duty Stanley knife instead.  I’ve found the larger blade makes a better cut and is less likely to bend / twist or get stuck inside the foam itself and the markings on the foam ensures that you’re making the cut as straight as possible.    Regardless of all this prep, I still managed to make some of the cuts a little wonky.  Go figure :-s.

Thus far, all the components I’m working on are still very much WIP.  The towers still need to have their tops built and secured, while the gatehouse still needs an actual gate in addition to ramparts to go over the top.  The gate itself will be a challenge as I’m hoping to design one that actually opens and closes to add a sense of realism to the piece.  To do that however, will require components that I don’t have on hand at the moment, meaning that getting this section completed will take a little longer than I anticipated.  Fear not though, my scouts report that there is a massive force of undead marching towards my capital, whose strength is estimated at over 4000 points.  This has encouraged me to new heights of productivity as I desperately do not want to face these forces on the fields of battle without ample bonuses in my favour. 

Catch you all later


Campaign Update: The Firebringer’s Oath!

With no real painting progress of note to share with you at this point, I thought I'd share another portion of Campaign fluff I've been working on. This piece is based during the first season of the campaign, just after Geordie's capital was double-teamed by the dynamic duo that was Jamie as Nathan. Hope you enjoy.

Verexian Firebringer’sdreams are restless and troubled.  Nottwo days past, a great host of men and undead creatures had invaded hispeople’s main camp and put it to the torch. The while ultimately defeated, the garrison of warriors that hadremained behind to guard their homes acquitted themselves with honour, slayingmany of the armoured invaders and slaughtering the steeds they rode upon.  It was not enough though, the wives andchildren of his warriors lay shattered and bloody in the marshy wastelands, theheads of his warriors impaled on spikes for all to see.  The shame of his defeat stings bitterly andhe yearns for the vengeance that is owed to him.

As he dreams he hindshimself on a bloody battlefield choked with the corpses of armoured men and brokenskeletal remains while the very earth itself is drowning in blood, so fiercewas the slaughter that happened here.  Nomatter where he looks, his eyes behold broken bodies, discarded weapons andsoiled banners that lie crumpled on the bloody ground in tattered ruins.  His eyes spy movement inside the bloody hazethat engulfs the edges of the island of destruction and on instinct his handreaches for the Thrice-Damned Blade Azaargul but finds nothing but empty air. 

The figure thatapproaches looks to be withered and incredibly ancient, a staff of gnarled woodgripped in the scaled avian claw he has for a hand.  He stops close by and his eyes of green fireblaze in the semi-darkness; an emissary of Tzeentch to be sure.  The moaning of a hundred damned souls fillthe clearing, their disembodied voices stirring his cloak of flames that flashacross the full spectrum of colour, even those that defy identification in thismortal realm. The wizened figure opens his mouth and unleashes a rasping caw,silencing the wailing of the damned in an instant.  “Iam Rojak, the servant of Tchar and I come here in behalf of my master, RomulusIronwolf.  He offers you an alliance sothat the peoples of the North may crush those who invade our lands, dedicatingtheir deaths to our patron god.  Joinwith him and your people will be treated as his and you will be given theopportunity to rebuild all that you have lost at the hands of the softSoutherners.  What say you?’ With his tribe weakened and surrounded by enemies, Verexian knew thatsuch a merging would greatly strengthen his position within tribe and perhapsoffer new and interesting opportunities for his people.  Who knows? The thought of disposing of this Romulus Ironwolf and ruling over twopowerful tribes was an appealing thought indeed. 

Stepping forward,Verexian touched his heart before giving his answer, making this pledge aheart-truth as custom demanded.  “I, Verexian Firebringer, swear by my masterBel’Carar the greater Daemon of Tzeentch, to pledge my sword and the swords ofmy warriors to Romulus Ironwolf to cleanse the North of all invaders and tore-teach these soft southerners why the north is a place to be feared.” With the oath declared, Rojak’s staffstruck the ground and Verexian’s hand exploded in agony; tearing him from theworld of dreams and slamming his soul back into his sleeping body.  With a hiss of pain he jerks upright, theback of his hand glows an angry red.  Ashe watches, the shape of a metal wolf devouring the iron of Tzeentch forms outof the swiftly healing scar-tissue.  Itseemed his new ally was not about to let him forget about his oath any timesoon.  Lifting his armoured form upright,Verexian left the tent in search of his Jarls. There was much work to be done this day...

Thursday, December 15, 2011

WoC Fluff Update: Roddik Briarheart

Thought I'd do another fluff update to introduce the Garrison Commander of my Capital City in the Norsca in Flames campaign.  Hope you enjoy.  As always C&C is welcome.  

Roddik Briarheart smiled as another wave of hounds came streaking out of the dark.  Horrible, twisted undead creatures with eyes of Balefire and whose claws and fangs were covered in the ever-rotting flesh of their previous victims.  Terrifying as they may be, for one who has seen the true face of Chaos, this was nothing in comparison.  Besides, how can you be terrified of something that you can always see, even in the dark?

There were six of them in this pack, a larger group than before.  Perhaps they actually have the capability to learn, thought Roddik, though obviously not fast enough if they thought to send only six.  Smiling behind his horned helm, Roddik moved engaged the first of the hounds as the rest of the pack spilt up in an attempt to flank him.  The spiked ball at the end of the length of chain that was wrapped tightly around his left forearm whistled as it blurred into frenzied life.  A sickening crunch ended the un-life of the first Dire Wolf as the spiked ball collided with the rotting bones of the wolf’s skull, shattering the brain-pan and sending the bottom jaw of the wolf spinning off into the darkness.  The balefire in the wolf’s eyes flared briefly before disappearing, the magicks animating the corpse released upon its second death.  Using the momentum from the initial strike, the blade in Roddik’s right hand slashed out, decapitating a second wolf as it leaped for his throat; its fiery gaze spluttering once before going out.  Twisting his body to redirect the physical energy behind the second blow, Roddik spun once again to the right, wrenching the spiked ball from the ruins of the wolf’s skull in a spray of rotting bone and putrid flesh. 

The third wolf had come in from his left, attacking from the blind-spot created during the slaying of the second wolf.  It was not fast enough however as the spiked ball, now dripping with congealed blood and bone fragments embedded itself in its midsection; shattering its spine and ribs while turning the internal organs to pulp.  With an unearthly yelp the broken remains of the creature were tossed back into the black veld that surrounded the island of light he fought in.  The clattering of claws on rock revealed the fourth and fifth creatures that were dispatched as swiftly and without mercy.  Scanning the area, Roddik’s gaze landed upon the final Dire Wolf watching him from the edge of the fire’s light.  Half again bigger than the others, its face was twisted into a horrific snarl, blood and saliva dripping slowly to the ground from the flayed ruin that was the wolf’s maw.  With a keening howl the Dire Wolf attacked, streaking across the open ground towards its intended victim.  Roddik smiled again as his armoured boot lashed out, connecting the wolf’s sternum stopping its charge and forcing all the momentum upwards before a downward stab of his blade slammed the wolf into the ground; pinning it in place. 

Roddik watched as the last wolf’s eyes faded into blackened pits before removing jerking the blade free.  Wiping the blade clean and flicking the viscera clear from the ball-and-chain, Roddik gathered his meagre supplies and began the journey back to his village.  The rotting heads of the Dire Wolves would be proof enough of his worthiness to rule and not even Krogen could dispute that.  Krogen Steelfang may be the representative of Jarl Romulus Ironwolf, but Roddik Briarheart would command the defence of his own village; Father Nurgle will see to that.

Catch you all later


Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Story Time: Storm Clouds Gather....

Thought I'd throw in a random short story as a bit of colour text to set the scene for the next section of the campaign.  Hope you all enjoy.

Romulus surveyed his people’s land as he stood immobile at the pinnacle of the wooden tower.  The rapidly cooling wind carried with it the tang of ice, a sure sign as any that winter would be upon them soon.  Perhaps, if they were lucky, the gods would see fit to create a storm so fierce that it would scour each and every one of these invaders from these lands.  Reports from scouts had been disturbing thus far.  The Firebringer’s camp had been decimated, leaving their warriors desolate and homeless. Ogres and Undead engaging in battle in the East while the thrice-damned Empire fought against the sluggish Lizardmen in the North-West.  Romulus’ Wolf-spirit chaffed at the leash that kept them close to Malkareth – the Den of the One-Eyed Wolf but its anger was tempered by the need to keep his pack safe and until the defensive walls were complete.  Until the walls were completed though, his people would have to be content with waiting and watching; if only for the moment. 

Turning his attention to the East, he watched with pride as he saw the construction site for the defensive walls that slowly encircled his city. Hearty warriors stripped to the waist worked together to drag great boughs of the mighty pines that grew in the forest not far from here to the base of each wall where they were cleaned, treated and the end worked to a savage point before being inserted into the stone base of the wall and lashed to it’s companion standing next to it.  Once complete, this would be a mighty wall, capable of defending against any who were foolish enough to try.  A sporadic movement in the sky caught his attention, his eyes fixing upon it immediately.  It was a Raven, a messenger from his scouts in the Eastern region.  Landing on the timber machicolation, the raven’s single green eye fixed upon Romulus as it hopped closer to the Warlord.  Reaching out, he touched his finger to the raven’s skull, allowing a small trickle of power to be released into the bird, allowing him to delve into its memories in search of the information he needed.  Words and pictures filled his mind as he explored the ravens’ subconscious fixing upon the knowledge he needed.  In his mind’s eye he watched the legion of shambling corpses marching east towards his people, their expansive host marched under a great pall of clouds whose dark faces shielded them from the sun’s burning gaze.  Pulling away, he released the link he shared with the raven and descended into the tower.  War comes to the Wulfkin Tribe, and Romulus intended to impale the head of this impertinent Vampire on a stake as a message to all others – This land belongs to the Wulfkin Tribe and woe betide those who try and take it from us.