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CoffeeGrunt

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CoffeeGrunt last won the day on July 22 2020

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  1. Vengeance Piece-By-Piece It is now well-known that the followers of Chaos are known to commit the greatest atrocities and most sickening acts of butchery as they prey upon the weak and defenceless. A common sight after the passing of a marauding horde are open charnel pits, gnawed bones and rotting flesh piled high in indiscriminate heaps, sigils in damned tongues consigning the souls of those within to the dining platters of their ever-hungry Gods. The flesh therein is often valuable to Necromancers, as it matters little whether a Deathrattle thrall has an entirely matching set of bones, only that it serves. The more canny make use of the scraps of souls left behind, now as scattered and shredded as the bodies that bore them. Flickering fragments of agony, misery, and hopelessness crying out with wailing voices that summon cold sweats from the bravest of men. These piecemeal scraps of souls can be woven into a fragmented patchwork of vengeful, spiteful spirits who seek nothing beyond inflicting pain and woe upon any caught in their path. Often the Necromancer is first to suffer, for this force is almost elemental in its power, and as a Bright Wizard knows the danger of fire without disciplined control, so too does a seasoned Necromancer know the danger of harnessing the raw, formless vengeance of these spirits. Misryha became the home of many charnel pits, its citizens butchered, devoured, and discarded. (If they were lucky, it was in that order). This gives the processions that haunt Misryha an almost limitless source of weaponised spite, ready to plunge their claws into the hearts of fiends and saints alike, and still the beating hearts they find therein. As the soul tries to vacate, the hosts set upon it like starving wolves, and the tattered shreds of their victim soon joins their own swirling mass, now a kindred spirit of formless agony...
  2. Finished that unit of Skeletons I was trying out some green stuff work on. Very pleased with how they came out, might take the aesthetic across to the rest of my Deathrattle:
  3. A Tale of Two Warlords Nagash is never one to afford mortals respect, in the same way a man never affords respect to the barley he reaps for the harvest brew. Indeed, it's questionable if the God of Death is even capable of feeling respect for another entity, as he is consumed by bitter spite with regards to the only other entities he considers his peers, and all other creatures, living and unliving, are merely fuel and fodder for his schemes. And yet, sometimes his hand waves over some souls more favourably than others. The two captains Canphis and Matyr are such souls. As the wave of Chaos crashed upon Tyur and rendered it into rubble, it surged along well-worn trading roads to the other, more vulnerable settlements situated in the mountain valleys. A few, spirited acts of defiance and defence were attempted, but few achieved anything beyond pitiful failure, save the actions of these two. Both were similarly trained in the art of asymmetric warfare, possessed with almost prenatural abilities in the arts of guerilla fighting, and ambushes. Time and again the Chaos forces would fall under sudden attack as they travelled through narrow passes, a rain of boulders and arrows falling upon their heads, only for their winged scouts to find no assailants on the peaks above. Beasts of burden and artillery pieces were frequently harried from the rear, only for the forces commanded by Canphis and Matyr to fade once more into the ether. The advance of Chaos was thus stalled, for a time, particularly after the Lord of Khorne Attivus Sonflayer declared that he would not take another town until their skulls were added to his collection. In the end, the ever-increasing forces of Chaos proved too much for the guerilla forces to evade. Stalled though they were, an endless horde marched from the Realmgate to bolster the Chaos forces, and a retinue of Tzeentchian Sorcerors eventually scryed the target of the next ambush. Laying a trap for the guerillas, the bait was taken. A bloody massacre occurred as the two Captains, meeting for the first time in this twisting of the strands of fate, were surrounded and torn to pieces. Their skulls soon decorated the pauldrons of Lord Attivus' armour, and their skins made fine banners for his Bloodreavers. Nagash, however, saw fit to retain that preternatural instinct for elusiveness that the two captains displayed. Now they ride at the head of hosts once more, appearing from nowhere with their loyal guerillas behind them, ready to strike where is most opportune to reap a tally in Nagash's name.
  4. Thanks! It's actually a really simple technique, the part I'm having most trouble with is the cloak, weirdly enough. Basically following this technique from Peachy. https://youtu.be/L-R8YGM2xOg
  5. "A kingdom lost, To civil strife, They pay the cost, In grim unlife." The Would-Be Kings The story of the Would-Be Kings is ultimately a story of the perfidious entity known as The Changeling. It is unknown how it came to Misrhya, nor for how long it burrowed its way into the nobility like a bone-maggot, but it was almost singularly responsible for the collapse of the principle military capital, Tyur. The Changeling quietly dispatched the King of Tyur and took his place, beginning to issue contradictory orders to different arms of the legislative, military, and priestly arms of government. The creature has an innate talent for knowing the wishes of mortal beings, and sought to sow division and strife to weaken Tyur. Situated at the convergence of major trade highways through the mountains that surrounded the Realmgate, the Fall of Tyur was key for the Fall of Misrhya as a whole. And so, the Changeling went to work. Over the course of months, it wove a web of intrigue as it assumed a staggering variety of forms and roles, all calculated to fracture the whole and make brothers into mortal enemies. In addition to the King, it took the form of the Chief of the Guard, conducting a ruthless massacre of the peasantry after fomenting a small Tzeentchian Cult in the lower narrows of the city. From there, it lead the peasant revolt as the charismatic Allys Dupont who initiated an uprising of all oppressed peoples against the masters of the city. It set Nobles against one-another, appearing as murdered wives, shadowy assassins, and even in its true form when the High Priest begged an audience with the King. In all sectors, at all levels of society. it shattered the people apart like fine porcelain. The Would-Be Kings were the few who took up arms, marching out to restore order, claim power, or avenge injustices, accompanied by their armies or household guards. In a series of bloody battles, they fell upon each other's swords on the eve of the arrival of Chaos, leaving the garrisons depleted and unable to hold back the tide. And so, with cold fury, Nagash damned them. Each of the Would-Be Kings is tied to one-another, though they seethe with hatred at the very proximity of their competitors and rivals. Their ire rises until they strike out, but each time the blade turns from their target and buries itself into the enemy Nagash has chosen for them to slay. So they are cursed, ever in each other's spiteful presence, simmering with the urge to butcher them, yet unable to commit the act. Until they claim ten souls for every one lost in Misrhya, they shall continue to fight, though each is so consumed with hatred that not one knows the true count.
  6. "Beware the reaping spectre, His blade so sharp and cold, He'll drink your blood like nectar, And wrap chains around your soul," - Misrhyan Lullaby An Empire of Souls Misrhya was a vast land in Shyish, situated in an idyll where the Winds of Death blew a little more calmly than most. In this whorl, this eye in the storm of amethyst magic, life took hold, though ever was it surrounded by death. Death ruled within and without: the God of Death was paid his dues, and the various Kings, Warlords and Clanneachs of the peoples there knew short lives in which the brutality they meted out was often repaid in moments of crisis. In the centre of the land stood an inactive Realmgate, perhaps the source of the calm doldrum that allowed Misrhya to be formed. However, all this was not to last... It began with a thunderous roar that never wavered in its intensity; the peoples who had settled closest to the Realmgate were almost deafened by the sudden, torrential outpouring of magic from the gate. It had a viscous, unpleasant feel. Oily and caustic, like burning pitch, and it held the threat of choking life from the whole land before it, at last, ended. And the Realmgate, was opened. Unknown even to the God of Death, the Ruinous Powers had played their hand, and a wholesale invasion of all other realms was underway. The Age of Chaos had arrived. All know the great tales. Of Hammerhal, Nagashizzar, and beyond. But this is a tale of Misrhya, of its fall, and of its damned souls trapped in eternal service to the Death God, for the crime of failing to stop the Chaos advance. Lady Olynder: Deliverance and Damnation It was Her Ladyship that delivered the Misrhyan people from eternal torture in the depths of the Underworlds. Beseeching Nagash, her master, she chose them as new, wailing meat for the grinder of the ongoing war. Instilled with untold millennia of grief at their loss of life, home, and any semblance of hope, they were a perfect fit for her insidious strategies. Nagash had reforged them as he saw fit: as ever, in forms that punished their misdeeds in life. When Olynder leads this procession of the damned, she does do in funereal attire, a gown of midnight blue that is at once part of the night and yet looms out of it with malicious intent. Where her Nighthaunt appear suddenly in shock and terror attacks, the Misrhyans march from afar, as inevitable as her Nighthaunt Processions, but all the more terrifying to the defenders. Hasty preparations are made: artillery rains, barricades formed, and emergency levees raised. All for naught. The tide of damned souls crashes against these defenses, shattered bones reknit themselves and rejoin the fight. In the end, the defenders realise their doom was assured from the moment the Misrhyans first set to march, and all hope gutters like a candle in the wind.
  7. Decided to have a crack at sculpting green stuff, as I've been watching a fair few videos on it and have plenty of time for putting effort into my minis now. Here's a couple of Skeleton Warriors I decided would be my guinea pigs for the experiment:
  8. Lockdown has led to me digging out my models that have been sitting in a store cupboard for the last couple of years after a move, and finally putting paint to them. Found a local wargaming group in my new city as well, so maybe they'll even hit the table sometime! For now, I'm just enjoying painting them. Whiles the hours away with some good background noise on. Here's a pair of Nighthaunt Dreadblade Harrows I did recently:
  9. Absolutely gorgeous models. This has really helped rekindle my hobby spirit after a long, long hiatus! Excited to put brush to model now!
  10. Hey folks, So I've been out of the game for...a while, basically since the Nighthaunt book dropped. Where are they at these days? What's worth picking up, what rules are available, and what despicable usurpers are there these days for Nagash to send them against?
  11. So I have - quite suitably - returned from the dead as the mortal realms are ravaged by plague, and I shelter from the storm. My army is almost entirely gone, but I've been steadily recollecting pieces from ebay and exhuming unpainted Nighthaunt I sequestered away for just such a dark moment. To start with, here's two Dreadblade Harrows I've painted up:
  12. The casket is pretty good. Unlike the Emerald Lifeswarm it heals every unit within range IIRC.
  13. Yeah it's a marginal bonus at best for a huge battalion. The smaller battalions are pretty excellent though.
  14. Seems a lot better than it was. Doesn't hit very hard until it levels up though, but that's easier to do now. Spits out Mortal Wounds pretty well once it's charged up, I reckon it'd be a good support piece.
  15. Not in a size you can actually use for a unit, though.
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