The Troggoth Hag is definitely a piece I believe every Troggoth army needs. It's amazing as a model and amazing on the table.
I rarely do such detailed eyes and faces but when working on a model that is the centrepiece of your army you want to spend some extra time just to make it special. This is surely the best work I have ever done on a models face and I think there is just a lot of character and emotion on the model.
My smaller Troggoths are just green and blue but for t
The Storm of Sorrows
Legion of Grief at CanCon2020
Hello there people, been a hot minute hasn’t it? I’ve been a little too busy to spin yarns about my personal favourite sowers of terror and woe, but I’m back and ready to burn CP like they’re going out of fashion. Without further ado or preamble, the list I will be taking to CanCon 2020.
As regular readers can clearly see, changes have taken place. Friendship has been ended with Dreadscythe Harrida
"They were a group, my group, the last literary coven. If it was necromancy to commune with the dead, to raise written spirits from their tomes, then we were necromancers, not death-dealers or charlatans but people, just people, who read together and remembered in that graveyard, that forgotten place, that library for the dead". Abel, Dark Awakening, Ch. 2
Last week, we shone the spotlight on one of Abel's bookish acolytes. This Sunday, let's take a closer look at the the Unwritten himself.
Archregent Pontiff Fodderbite and Akhelian King Valentournos had both discovered the location of the Relocation Orb and both new they must be the one to recover it and harness its arcane energy as they strove to march upon the Grand Stormvault. Neither commander knew of the others plans nor did they know that soon they would come face to face on the battlefield.
The armies met with the Blisterskin Court making the first move. A Royal Terrorgheist worried the left flank, shrieking at the All
“Necromancy, a written art, its secrets consecrated in blood, His Word made flesh. For the longest time, that was all I saw; runes and languages that sought to confound me even as I learned them. Never did I stop to study that on which they were written.
"Their medium: human skin, gut for binding, and flesh of a different kind, sprouted from the fecund earth, grown into great forests before being hewn and pulped. That flesh is silent now, but in fair Ghyran, it still sings, the very wind wh
For this instalment of WIP Wednesday, meet Caspar, often known as Lickspittle, a priest of Necros, most subservient and loyal to The Ancient One.
Caspar spends much of his time keeping watch while his father sleeps and waiting on him when he wakes. Of all The Ancient One's get, his obedience is willing. He is particularly jealous of Eli and the good favour the Blissful One receives. He calls The Ancient One ‘Master’.
This is his small coven — on the tabletop, counts-as Vargheists. Casp
(This narrative will correspond with a local league's slow-grow campaign.)
Blott Moldtoe stared for a brief second at the wad of mucus, before flinging it unceremoniously into the pile of squabbling Nurglings at his feet. The diminutive demons chortled and hacked with glee, momentarily occupied with their new, lumpy plaything. Blott ignored them as best as he could, and set his one cyclopean eye to the horizon.
“Bit of a storm coming,” cackled a wet, phlegmy voice from behind where Mol
This is the first time I’ve used contrast paint on anything and I feel like I used it the right way but the way it runs on flat surfaces and often leaves difficult to reach areas like the tops of these kurnoths is kind of frustrating as you need to use a light base coat for them. I think it works better than just slapping agax earthshade on them but I’ll relegate this stuff to just another tool I can use to diversify my color range in my Sylvaneth collection.
As an aside here are some bett
"Tell me a story, Abel."
One sandalled foot on the marble steps, my brother stops.
"A story, Teacher?"
"That is what I said."
He tugs at the sleeves of his robes, eyes unblinking, and I almost imagine I can see them playing out behind those glassy orbs: a hundred tales, a thousand sagas retold in the recesses of his mind. They say the dead don’t dream, but I have tasted Abel and know better, know that in the dusty aisles of his compliant head, an imagination like no other glu
"Her song holds no sway in these old trees. They stir with a different sound. Stop running, child, and you may just hear it: the wind in the boughs, like the billowing of vast wings; its keening shriek, like that of a beast in pain. You may yet hear it, if you just stop running. You may yet sing with them.
"Yes, little princeling. Catch your breath and raise your voice and sing with the children of the night, even as they catch you. A choir of screams, in harmony!"
Related read: Flash
Clang...... clang........ clang went the hammer on the boiling bloodforge of Khorne. Red lacquered armor was being constructed by the Skullgrinder known as Kranar Bloodhammer. His Brass Anvil, glowing red with the incandescent rage of the blood god Khorne, produced some of the finest armor in the realms. "Kranar, you have been summoned by Khul!" shouted a voice through the dense smoke of the forge. Kranar slowly dropped his hammer and looked back, in a low gravely voice he responded, "Tell him
“Akhmen-hotep, Beloved of the Gods, Priest King of Ka-Sabar and Lord of the Brittle Peaks, woke among his concubines in the hours before dawn and listened to the faint sounds of the great army that surrounded him.”
For this week's Am Reading, we take a look at the Warhammer Chronicles trilogy The Rise of Nagash, by Mike Lee.
I picked up this collection last year as preparatory reading for my new death-themed army. The background and lore is a huge part of the hobby for me — so much so
It has been a little over one week since I started the blog and 2020 hobby quest. So let's see what else I did.
Painting the Brimstone Horrors knocked off 10 of 10 models for the first 9 days, so I'm not stressing about the painting goals. There will be bigger obstacles to come, I'm 100% sure of it (two ominous laughs).
What you haven't seen that I have built/painted:
1. The aforementioned Rats from Carrion Empire that I built in the last post.
2. I completed the generic Cha
It's been a minute. My Sylvaneth army finished but not pictured in it's entirety. Why did I stop posting I don't know. But I do feel compelled to finish all my stuff and share it.
A lot has changed for Sylvaneth in the last couple of years. Not as fun to play admittedly but still fun to paint! I've learned a great deal.
The blood red sky drenches a desolate span of the Scarlands. Khorgos Khul, the mighty lord of the Goretide has caught wind of the rise of the Ossiarch Bone Reapers of the Black Pyramid. At this time he gathers his lieutenants around the Dreadhold to discuss how they will destroy this menace. "There is only one lord of Skulls" Khul decries. "Where is Kranar Bloodhammer my trusted Skullgrinder, we must start the forges of war!"
This week I will be working on painting Kranar Bloodhammer a Sk
After many hours of setting up games, handling so many models and conducting deployment shenanigans I have finally cracked the code on doing these things the easy way.
We have a "Tape measure companies hate him, find out why" situation here. The solution: 9'' chopsticks bought in bulk. As many of you have discovered GW has settled on rules' that generally rely on distances/ranges that have some multiple of 9, mostly concerning the core book, realm and scenario rules. I wish to show how and
Saturday was a big preorder day for followers of the thinking man’s Chaos God. So I ponied up the money and got:
Limited Edition Disciples Book (It better be good)
Warscroll Cards (And for Slaves Too, since the store had them)
Tzeentch Dice (At the time of ordering, I thought there was going to be a need for them to track Blue and Brimstone Horror Points, but I think having three colors from one set will still not be a bad trade off).
"With a gesture, my wailing attendants dissipate, revealing a slew of previously unheard sounds: the scrape of leather on stone, the flutter of robes caught in the wind and a quiet scratching, which could as readily belong to claws scrabbling at rock or the dutiful drag of nibs across parchment. Their aroma betrays them; turning from the bruised skyline, I watch while the brotherhood assembles around me, crawling like the great bats of the Blood Wastes into the tower’s belfry..." Dark Awakening,