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The Rusted Shore - a forgotten corner of the Realm of Metal


Shenordak

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Hi everyone. Wanted to share a bit of what I am slowly working on for my Age of Sigmar collection. What I am trying to do here is using the limitless possibilities of the Mortal Realms to forge my own narrative and look - world so to speak. This has so far mostly been an exercise in dreaming up setting and story alongside converting and painting single minis and warbands for AoS 28. But, I hope to change this and start on the journey towards making a true army, while not dropping the focus on narrative... So anyway, this is the setting, more or less:

The Rusted Shore stretches for leagues along the coast of the Great Isirian Ocean; blasted heaths and barren cliffs bearing the forlorn marks of fallen civilization. Black, flooded mineshafts leer out of the hillsides like the maws of great beasts. The ruins of once awe-inspiring cities rot away under the relentless assault of wind and salt, rust gnawing the iron walls, spired minarets collapsing to gravel and dust. Strange horrors stalk the daemon-haunted ruins, danger lurking in every nook and cranny.

Once the cities were shining centres of a learning and culture, home to men, aleves and duardin, but, just like their crumbling arches and cavernous basilicas, the very memory of those that built them will soon be lost to time. Their lost wealth came from the ****** salts and strange minerals extracted from the oily waves, sea-water lead into huge cyclopean basins and left to evaporate beneath the strong sunlight. But in those lurid, many-coloured salts lay the seeds of their doom. Mixed by alchemists into hallucinogenic, mind-rotting powders, they became a vice that could not be checked, and in their wake, the cities descended into narcotic-laced ennui, ripe fruit before the onslaught of chaos, both from within and without. They fell amidst unspeakable atrocities, cruel and perverse. Only the cities stand as mute monuments to the dead, the entire region, and its few remaining inhabitants, forever tainted.

These are my ideas, but I offer them to anyone to use. Part of the reason of being part of a community is really to build a shared narrative. I do this to get new perspectives and ideas.

The factions I have actuallty modelled and painted so far are all Order, and could probably be combined into one single army:

  • The nomadic Störnheer duardin. These forever moving clans travel up and down the coast, scrounging and scavenging for artefacts of the old times, collecting salt and keeping their ancient holy sites free from beasts and daemons. 
  • The Reeves. A loosely organized society of monster-slayers and bounty hunters who keep the fragile peace in the sparsely populated hinterlands, where scattered human miners dwell in ramshackle shanty-towns, having been lured to the Rusted Shore by promises of lost treasure
  • The Wasteland aelves. Insular, shamanic elven tribes who dwell on the parched wastes to the north. 

The next step will be building their adversaries, the Magisters of the Citadel, the followers of the Pale Beast and many more I haven't even conceived of yet. Stay tuned!

 

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Great concept! I’ve seen very little written about parts of Chamon that haven’t been touched by Tzeentch’s grasp, so I’m intrigued. I get a slight Mad Max feel from the blue rice you wrote in terms of visuals and how dry and blasted the environment seems.

I also like the use of Blood Bowl minis as a base for some of your Duardin conversions.

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On 2018-03-29 at 1:41 PM, Circus of Paint said:

Great concept! I’ve seen very little written about parts of Chamon that haven’t been touched by Tzeentch’s grasp, so I’m intrigued. I get a slight Mad Max feel from the blue rice you wrote in terms of visuals and how dry and blasted the environment seems.

I also like the use of Blood Bowl minis as a base for some of your Duardin conversions.

Hey, thanks. The blood bowl stuff is actually great for age of sigmar and its more high-fantasy look. The human team I think could be really nice for the human prospectors and miners of the hinterlands. 

Definetely going for a post-apoc feel, a fantasy post-apoc. 

Here are some more pics and background:

The Störnheer clansmen that make up the brunt of the caravans are rugged, adaptable survivors as harsh as their enviroment. Their crossbows are dependable and well cared-for weapons, capable of putting a quarrel througg a gor's head at a hundred paces. They can keep pace with their mule-drakes for days on end, subsisting on the same dry lichen and bitter roots, uncomplaining and tireless, marching to the keening tune of bellow-pipes . The Störnheer are absolutely reliant on their animals, drinking their cold blood when clean water is scarce.

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WIP on a drake-mule

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The hakrazad - the keepers of the truth - are the defenders of the Störnheer caravans. This is not just a martial task, but a spiritual one, as the most important thing for them to defend is the ancient knowledge passed down through the generations.

DSC_1264.JPG.f10861a4d2406e1c785baa235edecdcd.JPGDSC_1265.JPG.ca2171c8bd18662957859b885a734ba3.JPGThese sons and daughters of the caravans fight in ancient armour, relics of a past long forgotten.DSC_1266.JPG.abb5253446203d311c8f32f5527e901a.JPGThey march under the steady beat of dritwood drums, resolute against the night.

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Most important among them are the hearth-wardens, marching at the head of the caravan, lighting the way. But they are no mere torchbearers; the braziers they carry beat the last embers of the great hearths that once burned at the heart of long forgotten holds. Kept alive for millenia, they will one day kindle the hearths of new holds, when the exile ends.

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Time for my favourite mini of the lot. I've already posted this in the Dark Age of Sigmar thread and on instagram, but here he is again anyway.

 

The most tragic heroes of the Störnheer duardin are the Ûmak-Karahn, the Unforged. Warriors who have lost all to the daemons of the wasteland go to the caravan's lore keepers and ask to be Unforged and remade, willingly surrendering their bodies and minds to daemonic possesion. The daemons are driven out through fasting, monotonous chanting and acrid herbal smoke in a soul-rending rite lasting many days. The daemons can leave no lasting physical marks on stable duardin bodies, but the minds of the Unforged are filled with nightmarish visions and cackling voices. Yet, from their inner chaos, the Unforged pry the dark secrets of destroying the servants of the great enemy. And so, their skin etched with runes of anathema, their great axes pitted and rotted by caustic daemon blood, the Unforged fight a ceaseless battle for vengeance against the dark gods.

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