Well...a mate of said if I want to enjoy newer armies I have to upgrade my hobby and invest in hobby materials, like storage etc. Which I did so...I decided to do kharadron. Always said I wanted to do an army of em, which I am now doing. So...yeah hope people like this.
The air was murky as always, it was slightly dense and thick in the sense that it causes you to breath more harshly. Even if you are wearing a helm, the eternal dusk and night of the twilight plains makes journeys difficult as well. But such challenges are meant to be taken head on, defeating challenges while making money is the only way to earn mehret. Ulfar turned the wheel of the ironclad, he looked up to the look out he shouted at the old Aethric-Navigator and his friend Thungi Khazadson. His silver armour glinted despite the darkness, wind currents swept around his form as he clutched his Zephyrscope. “Thungi! How close are we to Daleshire!?” The Aethric-Navigator looked down to him, he removed his helm displaying his aged countenance, his brown beard also holds grey hairs. “No need to shout. I am just several metres above you.” Ulfar shrugged, normally he has to shout because he has no idea whether he is praying or not, his form of praying is listening to the currents seeking out the voice of Grungni.
Such a practice has been long forgotten by the Kharadron save those of Barak-Thryng, they venerate the ancestor gods to this day. It’s partly why Thungi is serving on his ship, no one wants him due to him being so old fashioned. But he liked that, he prefers to work with those who will honour their word and seek profit without tarnishing their duardin spirit.
Their skyport Barak-Dum are far more pragmatic compared to others, some call them cutthroats and even Barak-Mhornar turn their noses up at them. He personally hated it but it had to be this way since they live in Ulgu. A land of shadows, half truths and unknown horrors. It does not help either that they have a trade deal with Morathi the Shadow Queen. He had to admit it’s a lucrative deal, but there are costs to shaking hands with an aelf, an aelf that worships a god of war and blood.
He frowned “Well at least you are not praying, we have to be focused.” Thungi placed his helm back on, he left the look out and walked down the steps. Now that he was with him at the helm the old duardin shook his head. “We are only doing this because Barangor desires to seek out more lucrative tasks. This is a distraction.” “Aye, but what we are doing is important. Daleshire harvests gloomsweed, the medicinal properties of the root works wonders on injuries and having a great amount of it is useful for long voyages. They stopped trading with us recently and Barangor wants to know why.” Ulfar then heard the clanging of magnetised boots, the ironclad’s Aether-Khemit Mordin Logansson strode up to him, he shook his head. “We could seek some aether-gold on the side. I can smell a stream a few miles away.” Ulfar sighed “No Mordin.” he said firmly.
Mordin cocked his head slightly, the gesture looked strange with his helm. The long tubes used to aid in sniffing out aether-gold always caused him to shiver slightly. He stared the Aether-Khemist in the eye “Honour is everything.” he lived by that tenet, breathed it. “The task comes first, we won’t wander off the beaten road. The Admiral placed his trust in us.” Thungi nodded in agreement “despite my issues with the Admiral, Ulfar is correct. Honour the work before us, honour the agreement. If Daleshire stopped trading with us due to outside sources then there will be grudges to settle.” Ulfar grinned, that was another thing he liked about Thungi. He also enjoyed settling grievances, Ulfar even has his own personal grudge log strapped to his belt.
Then came another voice “I just want this to be done so we can return to the fleet.” A endrinrigger floated towards them. His aether-endrin strapped to his back gave off a soft hum. Ulfar grimaced, he was lucky that he was wearing his helmet so the Mizzenmaster could not see what expression he was making. As captain his rule is absolute, but Durak Hergarsson questions him all the time even when a course of action is agreed to. The troublesome endrinrigger is only on his ship for one reason alone. He is a black sheep among other captains of Barak-Dum, Durak’s endrinriggers were the only ones of the Endrineers Guild who had the desire to join his crew. But it was clearly obvious to him that Durak is Barangor’s eyes, for he had to admit he has not bought in much profit since becoming captain.
That was one fact he wanted to change quickly. “We should not do anything hasty when we arrive. I say we get a gauge of the situation and report back to the admiral.” Ulfar snorted “It seems you would like to lead Durak.” The Mizzenmaster’s red eye lenses fell upon him. “It’s just a suggestion captain.” “I heard your suggestion, now get back to what you were doing before.” Durak shook his head “fine, I will go back to doing check ups.” He flew back over the edge, Ulfar could hear his rivet gun firing, he nodded in satisfaction.
Thugni sighed “he is the problem with our sky-port.” “Nothing will change Thungi.” Ulfar said in slight annoyance. They had this discussion several times, he personally did not place much stock in gods they were never there when they are needed. He always believed at the end of the day you had to rely on oneself over other people fixing things for you. The old Aetheric-Navigator clutched his staff. “I know, but don’t you think Grungni is sad looking at us? What have we thrown away for the sake of shares? Barak-Dum doesn’t even follow the code properly either.” Ulfar narrowed his eyes, he had to agree with him there. The Admiral council use the code only when it suits them, but all know they are focused on lining their pockets.
Saying such a thing out loud would ensure you would never walk on another air-ship again. You would be reduced to a dock worker which is more or a less a death sentence for any of the Kharadron within Barak-Dum. The life of the dock worker is hard, you struggle to get by. He knows this, he had to watch his father waste away because he failed the musterpress three times.
His sky-port worked his father to death. Which is an an eternal Dammaz for him. It’s why he could never respect the admirals, the councils or the guilds. It’s clear also he gets stuck with all the poor jobs since he has a feeling that his Admiral desires wans him to fail. Modrin shook his head “stop thinking about it.” “I know Mordin.” Ulfar said dryly. Thugni chuckled “Calm your nerves captain, Grungni will give us a chance one day, I know it.” Ulfar wished he could believe, but a mix of pragmatism and being realistic he knew that his prospects would not change while being a part of Barak-Dum.
An Arkanaut at the aftcastle shouted and pointed to the distance “Captain we are here!” Thungi rushed up to the look out. With the aid of his Zephyrscope and spy-glass he nodded. “Aye! We are are few miles from Daleshire!” Ulfar clutched the wheel of the ironclad.
“Now let us see what the problem is…”
Ulfar stood before the town Mayor, the houses were damaged like they have been under attack and all the people were hiding away in their homes. Only the Mayor has decided to meet them in the plaza, Mordin sniffed around. “Magic is in the air captain.” Thungni nodded in agreement “Aye, I can feel the currents have been pulled and bended.” Ulfar shook his head, “So tell me Mayor Balvor, what has exactly happened to your town?” Durak flew down, to him. “I think we should get to the point captain…” “Be quiet. I am talking to the Mayor.” The mixenmasster looked away slightly “very well.”
Balvor looked frail, his fair skin was ashen. “It was….shadows. Shadows came and took our people away.” “Shadows?” Ulfar was confused. He knew of the shadow-daemons that lurk in the dark places of Ulgu, but they never attack towns unless someone directs them. “We have no one to farm the gloomsweed. The shadows keep coming and snatching our people away. M-Maybe...we angered Malerion somehow?” He snorted as he said that. “Doubt it, gods tend to move when it only interests them. This smells like someone interfering with our trade deal. Know this Balvor, I will get your people back.” The Mayor looked at him in surprise. “W-Why?” “Honour is everything that’s why. The one is attacking you is harming both of us, we need the gloomsweed and you need your people. Your livelihood is being attacked, our livelihood is being attacked.” The manling started to cry, he wiped his face. “I never expected you to help us...I thought…” “That we would abandon you?” Ulfar spat on the ground. “Others would, but not me. I protect our trade partners.” Ulfar removed his grudge log from his belt, he opened the small cylinder container holding his quill. He flicked through to a fresh page, he then wrote.
Let it be known that I Ulfar Grumsson will hereby avenge the attack upon Daleshire, these “shadows” attacked the Kharadron, attacked Barak-Dum. Punishment shall be meted out.
Mordin gave a small chuckle “you are taking this seriously if you are writing a dammaz.” “I am. Our fellow duardin underestimate the need for gloomsweed but I am damn sure they will remember it when their crew is bleeding out after an attack.” Ulfar closed his personal log, he returned the quill to the cylinder and attached the log to his belt. “I swear to you Balvor, I will end the people attacking you, if I can we will rescue those still alive. ” The mayor nodded slowly.
Ulfar accepted that, he placed his helmet back on. “Let’s go, we will follow their magic. The attack looks recent.” Durak looked like he wanted to say something, but one look the endrinrigger held back his complaint. The parameters of this job has changed, they will end the shadows for trade can’t be restored otherwise.
At the moment they are sailing to the south, Thungi can sense a great amount of shadow magic sweeping through the currents. They sailed under fields of gloomsweed and according to arkanuats looking down from the rails the roots were covered in blood. Thungi then called out “camp in the distance!” Ulfar removed his spy-glass from his pocket, while keeping a grip on the wheel. He would have a first mate to take over so he could use the spy-glass properly but considering his position he does not even have that.
But he could see the camp, it was full of female aleves wearing gold and red gear, their hair was white while also baring red streaks. But what shock him even more is that he spotted mutants among them. Aelves who slithered around like a snake, they did not have normal legs. If he was not wearing his helmet he would spit on the ground with disgust. He removed the spy-glass from his eye. “So these are the shadows….” Durak came flying down. “We should report to Admiral Barangor, those are aelves of Hagg Nar.” “No we are pressing on. I am taking us to firing range.” “Do you know what it means to attack them!?” “Of course I damn well know what it means! Our sky-port is trading with an aelf who allies herself with mutants!” The mixenmaster removed his helm “in times of war, allies must be aided unless to so would prove pointless. Waste no duardin blood on unguz throlt.” Ulfar fumed with rage, he shouted at the endrinrigger. “Artycle 4, point 5 of the code! You think I am wasting our blood!?” The mixenmasster, looked young. His blonde beard was not all that long either, he flinched at his outburst. “Be silent child! Our sky-port wastes our blood allying with a back-stabbing aelf that works with mutants!” Ulfar brought up spy-glass again, they should be approaching firing range. The humans they were coming to save are dead, their hearts torn out, their bodies hanging hooks from macabre statues belonging to their pitiful god. “Honour is everything…” he hissed. “It seems you have forgotten that Durak. They attacked our trade partners, they are our enemy. My rule is absolute on this ship...unless...” he removed the spy-glass from his eye he swept his gaze over the rest of the arkanauts. “All of you feel otherwise?” They said nothing, those not wearing their helmets looked grim. He could tell they agreed with him.
Thungi then shouted “we are in firing range!” Durak shook his head “there will be consequences!” “Then let them come, I will take the fall. Open fire!” The the aether weapons sounded, the rattling of carbines the whoosh of torpedoes. Durak did not stop looking at him even as the sounds of shrill aelf screams greeted both their ears. Ulfar looked Durak in the eyes.
“The Dammaz has been settled.”
Dammaz - Means Grudge.
Mehret - a combination of success, profit and experience.
Unguz throlt - a lost cause; lit “undrinkable batch.” When a error occurs brewing of alcohol and good ingredients are lost, it is regarded as a tragedy among duardin.
Musterpress - Captains arrive to observe the drills, and they may choose to recruit new crew members by purchasing contracts, often to fill the places that have become available through death or injury. Those selected join the Arkanaut companies will endure any number of rites and rituals sacred to their new fleet, ship or both. Those passed over after three musterpresses must instead settle for lesser positions, often on mining or fishing vessels, or as dockworkers.
The noble Gryph-Hounds have fought beside men and women of Sigmar for thousands of years. Those that accompanied the General and were trapped outside Azyr were forever changed. Beset by foes on all sides, the General made them stronger, awakening old blood within them. They fed on the necrotic bats of Shyish, becoming something more. Taking to the skies once more, and feeding on the blood of the living, hunters of darkness.
Counts as fell bats!
The special weapons that the grund grundcorps are famous for costs a heafty price. Even due previous successfull jobs by the Rereksfjiord company, they can only afford to equip a small force with mortars, decksweepers and cannons, and as by the skyports tradition wearing ancient chain mail and shoulder pads for protection.
"My colleagues want to see concrete results before we can decide whether or not to renew our support to your enterprise. So you know what you have to do, your Lordship Somberheart..."
— Moryelle, Loremistress and Eminent Emissary of the Eldritch Council of Azyrheim
This aelf, who came directly to Port Stellis from Azyrheim, plays an important role in the city as an emissary of the Eldritch Council (she is at the moment the only member present in the free city). Although she is not a member the Conclave of Port Stellis, she attends their meetings as an esteemed consultant on magic and all things supernatural. A role that sometimes puts her in competition with the Astromancers' Guild and its Grand Master, Caius Lorentius.
In addition to her role as emissary, Moryelle also works for the dreadlord Sicath Somberheart, commander of the Order Serpentis army currently stationed in Port Stellis. She officially assists him as an advisor and provides him with magical support. But what everyone (except Sicath) doesn't know is that Moryelle is a double agent. Although she is a member of the Eldritch Council of Azyrheim, her allegiance goes first to the Darkling Covens. She acts as the liaison agent between Sicath Somberheart and the sorcerers of the Covens. Her mission is to help Sicath and his knights of the Order Serpentis to regain their lost fiefdom in the north but also to monitor them and send reports to the Covens who are closely observing the situation.
If Sicath succeeds in taking back his domain which is currently occupied by slaaneshi, then the Lord-sorcerers and the Queen-sorceresses of the Darkling Covens will begin a large-scale military campaign, with the help of the Order Serpentis, to reclaim all their lost territories in the realm of Ulgu.
It's done! I'm a very average painter but I'm happy with the level I've got my Sylvaneth to and this evening I got my last 5 Tree Revenants done for my Gnarlroot Wargrove to be ready for the christmas Bravery one British open
During the Age of Might the Kingdom of Odentia in the Realm Of Death was a quiet fiefdom far removed from the main population clusters of the Realm. The political power in the Kingdom centered around the Order Of The Bended Knee, a loose association of knights who controlled the local countryside from their scattered feudal holdings. The Order’s political power was buttressed by their role in the religious ancestor worship/veneration that dominated the cultural landscape of the kingdom. The populace held deep respect for their ancestral dead, raising the most honored of these deceased up to the devotional level of Saints, who were prayed to for guidance and spiritual intercession. The knights of the Order depicted themselves as temporal stewards of the Saints, carrying out their spiritual will and taking over the Saints’ martial protection of the kingdom. The most popular Saint in the devotional hierarchy was Saint Simeon, patron saint of penance. In the early history of the kingdom, Odentia was decimated by plague. As the community began to fall apart due to the impact of the epidemic, a young monk by the name of Simeon led a spiritual resurgence that focused on personal penance as the whole community looked to the saints for forgiveness from whatever sins had brought the great plague down upon them. By leading communal ceremonies of confession and penance Simeon brought the fractured community together and helped them cope with the devastation that the disease was reeking throughout Odentia. As the plague eventually subsided Simeon was revered as a savior and quickly entered the canon of Saints when he died a few decades later. In the wake of Simeon’s death and canonization, the Order adopted him as their patron saint and linked his popularity to their political power. They took on the new role of spiritual guardians of the kingdom, as stewards of public penance and enforcers of communal worship.
This was the state of the Kingdom of Odentia when the forces of Chaos surged into the Realm during the Age Of Chaos. As it was not one of the central kingdoms of the Realm, Odentia was not pivotal in the War Of Bones that saw Archaon invade the Realm Of Death and defeat Nagash. However, the tide of Chaos finally reached Odentia and the kingdom was besieged by the forces of the Dark Gods. The armies of the Everchosen overwhelmed the castles of the Order and ravaged the saintly monasteries that dotted the countryside of Odentia. The Order fought gallantly to protect their charges but in the face of the Chaos legions they were decimated and the entire kingdom was set ablaze. Refugees from the settlements of old Odentia struggled for survival, scavenging for whatever food and resources they could find. Slowly their humanity slipped away as they were forced to do unthinkable acts for mere subsistence. It began with stealing from each other and the consumption of domesticated animals like dogs and cats, but quickly escalated into grotesque scenes of cannabalism,
It was this depravity that drew the Carrion King to Odentia. Unwittingly freed from his prison by the legions of Archaon, the King came into Odentia and rallied its people against the forces of Chaos. Gathering the remnants of the Order Of The Bended Knee and the rest of the kingdom’s refugees the King feed them his flesh and corrupting blood and the Kingdom of Odentia was reborn. The derangement of the King swept through the minds of the Odentia refugees and forever altered their reality. The refugees came to see the King as Saint Simeon reborn, come to them in their hour of need. They had sinned and brought down a great punishment upon themselves but through Saint Simeon and the path of penance they could be atoned. The Saint forgave them and through a holy communion with him gave them the spiritual strength to free their kingdom. With a renewed Order and the Saint at the lead the forces of Odentia fought back the wave of Chaos and began reestablishing their homeland. The Atonement War was long and bitter but with the power the Saint provided the forces of Chaos were expelled and Odentia was rechristened. In wake of the Atonement War Saint Simeon proclaimed that his work was done and that he was needed elsewhere. He anointed the Knights Of The Order Of The Bended Knee as his spiritual successors and they drank deeply from his cup and were filled with his holy power. He claimed that through them he would watch over Odentia and when they needed him most he would return and ensure the prosperity of the kingdom. Throughout the Age of Chaos the Order and their penitent knights keep the forces of Chaos at bay and carried on the legacy of the Saint.
As the Age of Sigmar dawned Odentia was awash in optimism. As the forces of Chaos receded, for the first time Odentia was not besieged on all sides. The Order took it as a providential sign from Saint Simeon that a time of renewal was at hand. They were being rewarded for their devotion and were the chosen, destined to lead all into the new glorious dawn. Thus Lord Belisarius, Grand Master Of The Order Of The Bended Knee has called a Grand Penitent Crusade. All the forces of Odentia, the military orders, the penitent flagellants and the devoted monks rally ready to spill forth from the boarders of Odentia and bring the truth and prosperity of Saint Simeon’s path to all those in the Realm of Death.
Welcome to my FEC work in progress. Since AOS 2 hit I have decided to finally finish my FEC army. Above is my fluff and here is what I have completely painted so far.
Here is Lord Alexius the Steady, Field Commander of the Order Of The Bended Knee. He is one of my Varghulfs Courtiers that I converted from the GW giant kit.
The Protectors of the Candle
"We protect the light in the darkness." — motto of the Protectors of the Candle.
Like any other major city of Order, Port Stellis is governed by a Conclave composed of representatives of the various factions, guilds and corporations of the city: the aelf corsairs, the miners' syndicate, the knights of the Order Serpentis, the astromancy guild, etc. Each of these groups seeks above all to protect and develop their own interests. As a result, there are often rivalries and tensions between them.
However, there are two factions that do not participate in this game of political influence because they exist primarily to fulfill a duty: the Stellar Champions and the Protectors of the Candle.
The first are stormcast eternals stationed in a fortress on the edge of the city and they live to accomplish the mission that the God King has given them. They are not involved in Port Stellis' internal affairs and will only intervene in cases of war or chaotic corruption.
The latter are none other than the city watch who ensures security inside Port Stellis. They are men and women who have chosen to enlist, wear uniforms, enforce laws and maintain public order. While it should be prestigious role, it is rather an ungrateful and dangerous job. Soldiers with several years of service are generally considered particularly tough and stubborn. The budget allocated to the city watch is very limited, so the hierarchy is forced to be cheeseparing over every expenses. For example, the uniforms are all the same size, each soldier having to sew it up if necessary. In addition, the city watch is lacking men, especially for a city the size of Port Stellis, which makes the work considerably more difficult. And as if that wasn't enough, the soldiers' pay is rather poor... Nevertheless, the inhabitants of Port Stellis must admit that without the Protectors of the Candle, the city would quickly fall into anarchy.
"We're not giving up ground! Hold your positions! And remember: we protect the light in the darkness! Let's show them what we've got! For Port Stellis! For Sigmar!" — Isilde Brumehaut
The Commander of the Candle is Isilde Brumehaut, an upright soldier descended from a noble lineage of azyrite origin. Not only does she command her soldiers and supervise the security of the city, but she also serves as a member of the Conclave. While she never falters in her task and never loses her seriousness, the days spent arguing in endless debates in the Conclave and mediating conflicts between guilds make her regret not being on the field as a normal soldier any more. Her desk is invaded by staggering piles of administrative paperwork that seems to renew themselves every day and her drawer is filled with migraine medication...
But sometimes, when the city is in danger, she can gladly abandon her administrative duties and lead her soldiers into the action along with the champions of Sigmar.
Painting the Celesta Ballista easy to build kit now. Going to have two of these including the one from the Soul Wars box- they're slightly different designs so should look good sitting next to each other on the table!
There have been many champions of Gorkamorka through the ages. Thorak was a champion during the Age of Myth, and had a suit of Sigmarite armour forged by the smiths in Azyrheim, as a show of good faith from the general to her trusted weapon. Even death couldn’t stop his rampage, swearing he would fight eternally for his allies against the forces of Chaos.
Battleplan: Knife to the Heart
Armies: Beasclaw vs Ironjaws
Points: 2000 Ironjaws
1 Megaboss on Maw-Krusha (Ethereal Amulet)
1 Grot Shaman
3 Gore Gruntas
+Redtooth and Brutefist or something battalions and Maw endless spell
Allegiance: Beastclaw Raiders (Shyish)
Frostlord on Stonehorn (420)
- Artefact: Ethereal Amulet
Huskard on Thundertusk (360)
- Trait: Everwinter's Master
- Pelt of Charngar
4 x Mournfang Pack (320)
- Gargant Hackers
2 x Mournfang Pack (160)
- Gargant Hackers
3 x Orruk Gore Gruntas (140)
3 x Orruk Gore Gruntas (140)
2 x Mournfang Pack (160)
2 x Frost Sabres (40)
Braggoth's Beast Hammer (230)
Total: 1970 / 2000
Pre-battle strategy: Opponent left 20xArdboys and 5 Brutes to his objective and other units to the right. Seeing I had no chance to break through that 55 wound Save 4+ wall even with ALL my army attacking it, I went for minor victory. Put 2 non-battalion mournfangs to the left to bait the Brutes to charge and then counter charge and attack from the wings.
1st ROUND Beastclaw: had to go first. Did not do much, just moved some inches and used Huskard's bird.
Ironjaws: Shaman Mystic Shielded Brutes and moved to the right with Gruntas, Brutes and both Megabosses. Others just huddled around the objective.
2nd ROUND Ironjaws: I won the initiative roll, but Beastclaw is too slow to get to charge range, so I gave initiative to orruks. Brutes, Gruntas and Megabosses moved forward, Brutes and Gruntas were close enough to make the charges. Brutes charged my two non-battalion Mournfang and blocked the from Gruntas. Brutes attacked, two guys with special weapons killed both Mournfang with ease. Brutes reroll all misses against Beastclaw.
Beastclaw: Didn't get to re-roll wounds, moved 3" instead. Used a bird against Maw-Krusha, Huskard iced 1 Grunta - actually I wanted to kill Brutes, but just said the wrong unit name...
Moved Frostsabres to block Grunta move to objective,
2 Mournfangs and 3 Beastclaw Gruntas charged Brutes, Frostlord charged Maw-Krusha, did 5 mortal wounds. Frostlord attacked, could not kill Maw-Krusha, regardless of +1 to hit and re-rolling 1s to wound. But finally killed him thanks to battalion one time power to attack once more.
Brutes killed Mournfangs and wounded Gruntas. Megabosses attacked Frostlord, almost killed him due to my rolling seven 1s and two 2s. Great...
My Gruntas kill two Brutes.
3rd ROUND Ironjaws: Didn't win priority. Ironjaws killed one Grunta with Maw endless spell, which left a hole for Brutes, who retreated to my objective and had more models than me around it, so MAJOR LOSS for Beastclaw.
SUMMARY: Cannot really see how to win that battle plan with Beastclaw. Just not enough bodies and not enough damage output. Maybe just stay arounf my own objective and hope for kill points.
My clear mistake was leaveng the hole for Brutes to retreat. Even 1 model would have blocked it, but my Huskard was just a bit too far away. Also half of my army was too far away and could not keep pace with Ironjaws - I know it sounds weird, but Beastclaw is not really fast army. 9 inch move is nice, but no boosting whatsoever, Ironjaws clearly outpaced them and in last game the Breyherd did the same.
I think next time I might try to exchange Huskard and cats against second Frostlord. Or Troggoth Hag.
This army project came about by my wish to have a Death faction that wasn’t enslaved to the will of Nagash, and that could be the “good guys”. The idea I came up with is a mixed force from the Age of Myth that have been fighting Chaos for thousands of years. Much changed from their original incarnation as mortal soldiers, they have fought and died in all the realms. Evading Nagash along with the forces of Chaos, fighting battles on every front. It’s great for conversions and thinking outside the box where it comes to what I can play with. I’ll be uploading the first few conversions.
First of all is the General, Stephanie Von Richter. She was sworn to Sigmar in life, but when he abandoned the realms she became disillusioned. Her mortal body could only last so long, so she eventually accepted the gift of the kiss of immortality from Neferata, the Mortarch of Blood, who wanted to use the general in her machinations against Nagash.
She is a Vampire Lord on foot, with the Chalice of Blood (and bone.). I’ve yet to decide what weapon to give her.
As the Kastellan drew closer his witch sight began to make out the arcane warding that pervaded the place, and had sealed the ancient tomb shut.
There was the symbol of rest.
There the glyph of containment.
Nine runes of binding glowed faintly around the dais that the tomb rested upon.
Senechal Konstantine reached out to the traces of magic, seeking to discover their creator.
The weaving of magic was subtle, but had an unmistakable flair. Their author was not a humble spell weaver, no there was power there. There was confidence, pride.
The vampire drew his conscious back with a start.
Neferata, Queen of Lies and Mortarch of Blood.
Whatever lay at rest in this box, the Tyrant of Nulahmia herself had sealed away.
The Kastellan proceeded up the onyx steps of the dais with caution, his muscles taunt in expectation.
Finally he stood over the Iron-Bound coffin.
What could have been so terrible that Neferata herself had seen fit to seal it away?
Why would Arkhan want it released?
Konstitine shook his head, it did not matter. Arkhan had commanded Konstintine would obey.
The Kastellan gathered himself, and set to work unbinding the myriad spells.
The vampire's brow furrowed, he felt his mind strain to the breaking point at the extreme difficulty in unweaving such a masterful tapestry of magic.
Finally he could take no more, Konstintine stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the tomb.
A chill jolted up his arm, Konstintine tried to recoil and found himself stuck in place.
The air in the crypt began to move, slowly at first but soon whipped into a fierce gale. The howling wind sounded like the screams of damned souls.
The seals Konstintine had been working so hard to dispel flared in strain and the tomb beneath him began to shudder.
The Vampire pulled back with all of his unnatural might in a desperate attempt to free himself from whatever trap he had fallen into but he could not.
Pain erupted up his arm as a shock of black lightning ripped up his trapped limb, burning the flesh away.
Beneath Konstintine the tomb exploded in a blast of magical energy, flinging the wounded vampire across across the barrow.
The Kastellan crashed against the rough stone wall with a groan, weakly raising his head to gaze upon the terror he had unleashed.
Gazing down back at him, framed in the unnatural glow of wraith fire was a towing wight clad in tarnished baroque maroon and gold plate armor emblazoned with the symbols of death. Upon the wight's skull sat a massive horned helm with a bristling red plume.
I am Krell. Lord of Undeath and Mortarch of Despair.
The skull of this Krell did not move yet his commanding voice echoed throughout the barrow mound, originating from nowhere and seemingly sounding from every corner of existence.
Konstintine scrambled to his feet, and simply stood, mouth agape at the thing in front of him.
Krell. He had never heard of any Krell. Then again, he had never paid much attention at all to the hundreds of thousands of deathrattle empires that the wight kings rule over. And yet this Krell had named himself a Mortarch, no mere petty potentate, an equal to Konstintine's master, and to his jailer Queen Neferata herself.
Such a thing seemed impossible. That this Krell could be amongst the vaunted Deathlords and for a right hand of Arkhan the most foremost of their number to know nothing of him... It made no sense.
Finally sense returned to the bewildered vampire. Konstintine was wounded, exhausted and in no shape to duel with this Krell who may or may have been a mortarch, but whose aura of immense power was palpable in the air.
With this in mind, the vampire knelt in the dirt before the massive skeleton.
“Hail Krell,” he addressed the wight “Allow me to introduce myself, your lordship. I am Konstintine of House Tervyrn, Kastellan of the Knightly Order of the Blood Wolf. I am here on the orders of his holiness Arkhan, the Mortarch of the Sacrament.”
I care little for you name. What is your purpose in releasing me? Speak.
“I am afraid I do not know, your lordship. I know only that my master asked me to.”
Take me to him, leech.
“Pardon me?” Konstintine responded in surprise. Temporarily losing his veneer of polite obedience he stood definitely and sneered “One does not simply demand an audience with my master, wight.”
The Kastellan realized his mistake immediately.
The wind in the chamber began to howl again, wraith light blazed in Krell's eyes, black lightning cracked through the air blasting holes into the stone. The wight lifted a massive black bladed ax in one hand and began to walk towards Konstintine at a deathly slow pace.
I am Krell the Lord of Undeath, and Mortarch of despair. I will be obeyed. Take me to Arkhan or I will destroy you and seek him out myself.
“My apologies, your lordship. Please allow me to redeem myself.” Konstintine fell back to his knees “I can lead you to my master, your lordship. Please.”
Krell's pace never faltered, the heavy clank of his antique plate heralded each deliberate step.
“Your lordship, I swear to you, I will take you to Arkhan directly. Only I know of his location with any certainty, I beseech you, listen to me.”
Krell continued his march all the way past the trembling Vampire and into the tunnel leading into the starless night.
Come, miserable leech, lead me to Arkhan the Black.
Konstintine sucked his teeth. Hate burned through every fiber of his being. Krell was too strong for him to duel outright, but perhaps he could lead the wight into ruin. Thus he is most the master when playing the slave. Yes. This is what he was doing. And it was a brave thing, surely, to plot and attempt the betrayal of such a mighty being. Yes. He was brave, and he was in control of the situation.
This morning I managed to finish up Drycha, I'm pretty happy with the result! I'm not a grat painter and I'm under no illusion I'll ever contest a best painted army but my main focus is that I paint models that are pleasing on my eyes to make the game better for me and the opponent. I think? I've done it
We decided to play the variant of the ritual battleplan that was played out a couple of times in White Dwarf this year, where the Aelves are stealing souls from one of Nagash’s Soul Siphon’s. Unfortunately I don’t have a game board like the one they used at Warhammer World so instead I used the ‘chained stones’ objective thing from the recent objectives set and placed it on top of a hill.
The IDK started and the Leviadon headed for the centre of the board with the Soulscryer and 2 Tidecasters using him as cover. With the potential threat of units that had been set up in reserve popping up behind the Aelven battle lines, Volturnous and a unit of 6 Morsarr stayed behind. On the right flank a unit of 30 thralls and an Allopex advanced towards the opposing black coach.
Nighhaunt began their turn by casting the Purple Sun and Quicksilver Swords and they headed down the centre of the battlefield. Lady Olynder and the chainrasp entered the fray and the ghostly horde descended upon the Idoneth.
The ethereals decided to go first in battle round 2 and had to endure the Purple Sun crashing in to the Chainrasp horde who were locked in combat with some Namarti Reavers after a very lucky charge roll. This didn’t prevent the Aelves being wiped out in the preceding combat though. Olynder, Reiknor and the Black Coach went out wide to the left and after magic and yet another high charge roll easily wiped out the Shark.
In their turn the Aelves responded with charges of their own despite it being so close to high tide. The Morsarr demolished the chainrasp whilst on the other flank the Thralls formed a meat shield for the soulscryer who was about to start his ritual. Magic had seen the unbinding of the dreaded Purple Sun as well as the death of the final Glaivewraith who had dared to charge the Leviadon. This left the giant turtle open to charge in to a tomb banshee and form another barrier to allow the ritual to take place.
The Aelves won initiative in round 3 and opted to go first, everywhere the quicksilver swords went the emerald lifeswarm followed ensuring the Soulscryers’ safety. The ritual began and immediately 7 souls were stolen. The ensuing combat saw the Idoneth go first and again do a lot of damage as several units were wiped out.
Another 7 souls were stolen at the beginning of the Nighthaunt’s turn and things were looking bleak for them as they had been decimated. However there was still hope on the left flank where Olynder, the Grimhailer and a black coach were still lurking – plus a gap had opened up where the Thralls had been gradually whittled away. It was now or never as the Black Coach hurtled towards the exposed Scryer. Yet again a 10 was rolled and this meant he could fight in the charge phase where a double 6 saw him defeat the Aelven priest and win the game.
First unit of evocators done! Mix between Soul Wars and regular box. Unfortunately, these guys are indistinguisahable from my Knight Incantor from a distance, so I'll have to think up a colour to add to the robes of the knight-incantor. Blue maybe?? Or some white lines?
With my eyes on a Gnarlroot Wargrove list for the christmas BOBO coming up, I've started work on my Tree Revenants. I've got the basecoat down and I'm confident once the bark has had work done on it the models are going to really pop, I'll keeep you all updated!
All models now assembled it was time to put splash a little colour all over them.
I had some idea of what I wanted but I asked around, as I am very unsure when it comes to colour choice and colour scheme, and this can cause pauses in painting that last years or the thread never gets picked up again, because i can't decide what colour the sash should be or how to highlight from the base colour I've sploshed on. If I can cut out this indecision and consternation before I even pick up a brush perhaps it will help me finish a project, which is a mission statement of this blog. To get me over the finishing line.
So I had some options I put out there for opinions, and finally went for a Dark, British Racing Green with White accent and Gold spot color. I would do all weapon hafts purple, extra robes, belts etc black. Weapons Leadbelcher to Stormhost silver. The Soul Grenades I haven't decided whether to do Blue glass or Fiery red to show they are explosives, so I will do a mixture of the two and see which I prefer.
The model I had converted most heavily was were I would test my scheme because I had invested the most ambition into this model my motivation was at its highest.
The model is a Sequitor (Sequitor Prime?) that I swapped a Blood Angel head onto, chopped the hand off, replacing it with the Darkoath Chieftan's Silver Tower, trophy Tzaangor hand, doing a rough green stuff fur/hair to hand but I'm not very good with green stuff, hopefully you can't see the join.
I'm not sure the black with blue sash, works, I went for an Ash Blond hair on this model, but think I'll do Black, grey on others. Made a wash from Fenris grey for the white robes but think I went too blue so tried to rescue it later.
This after trying to plan my paints before starting model to prevent exactly this happening, but I guess I minimized these sorts of hurdles for myself by planning in advance.
Not great photography, sorry.
I attemped to go Blue Lightning tribal tattoos on his check bones, but I think he looked better without them. I do not know how to paint the Soul Grenade vails, I used the technique for space marine lenses but i think I'll have try something else and perhaps Blue on the next model. And I'm ****** at horns.
So decided to make a test model for my shadow pirate project I'm planning. Aka a mixed race pirate force counting as Kharadrons and being from the realm of shadow!
Anyway here's wonderwall... I mean the admiral.