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The Forests of Death - Building to the AoS Doubles Tournament


Melcavuk

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4 minutes ago, The Traitor said:

Looking great, though I'm not convinced about tanned flesh for your army style, even though it is the same time as the bark of your trees... Maybe a paler tone would look nice? Or a greyish colour?

It was something I had considered, the photo doesnt quite capture itg but the skin is ultra high contrast at the moment (really tan through the bone highlights), its sort of a comic book style texture for old school horror. 

With the new Malign Portents maps out I'm considering claiming the Hangsmans Woods as the basis for this army, with bodies overtime being absorbed by the very trees they are strung up from. Bodies of the death being food for the carnivorous forests in a realm that provides no sustenance for life to flourish, which means my final treelord for the 1000 point list will have zombies suspended from vines as the corpses being hung will be in various stages of consumption.

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The echoing reverberations of the rhythmatic beat being pounded out on a hundred drums echoed across the desolate marshes, great tongues of fire lashing out defiantly against the night sky from a massive bonfire taking heart in a small copse of trees that stood out against the boglike earth that travellers referred to as Deadsmans Rest. Yet still I edged closer, to find a beacon of light in this cold and desolate realm had stirred my interest, who... or indeed what would so defiantly stand out against the God of Eternal darkness in such reckless abandon.

 

As I neared the treeline I could see their shadows, dozens of tendrils of shadow curling and leaping in a frantic dance to the drum beat as they moved around the bonfire. Almost buried in the relentless onslaught of drum beat I could hear vague words being growled in a bestial tongue, yet I had to get close still if I was to decipher their fanatical chant. Edging my way through brambles, ignorant to the scratches they left gouging my skin, obsessed with discovering what secrets lay mere meters away I could finally steal a glimpse of the creatures performing some kind of primitive ritual.

 

Foul abominations of Man and Beast lay before me, fur and hoof met flesh and sinew, furrowed brow of man giving way to jagged horn of goat, yet even these crude creatures seemed to have suffered at the hands of this unforgiving realm. Their forms were, to the best of my interpretations, gaunt... half starved even, pox marks and scars telling a story that a lesser man may even have found room in his heart to have sympathy for. But I had travelled too far, seen to much to pity beasts such as these, through the flickering flames I could see their shaman, the largest of the group by some measure and seemingly the one who had come through the realm least scarred. I posited the assumption that such beasts would feed their alpha first, whether willingly or not, he stood far taller than any man I had seen, perhaps even passing the height of the soldiers of Sigmar himself, blackened fur and ivory horns daubed in foul sigils of a crimson hue that I had seen too often on the field of battle.

 

In all my time staring I had somehow deafened myself to the thunderous beat of the drummers beat, as its noise once more rushed into me I could see the drummers nearby, each had devolved into a frenzied assault onto their hide-made instruments. The noise accompanied by the braying of the herd around them, their words finally reaching my ears clearly enough to decipher such a primitive tongue.

 

It was a name... one I could neither put face nor locale to and yet deep inside me it invoked what I could only swear to be primal fear. It stirred in me, the urge to flee flooding every sense and every muscle. Breathe catching in throat and yet I remained locked in place as obsession and terror waged war within me. As the drum beat reached crescendo the shaman let out a final shout into the night sky, raising a crudely hewn bone dagger as he slit his own throat, his form instantly lifeless as he fell forward into the bonfire.

 

I could almost swear that I saw his spirit desert its now hollow shell... feel the air around me become ice cold as it passed me in a rush of air. Finally obsession found itself unworthy of the fight with terror and I found myself to be running, scrambling through broken branches and torturous nettles as I fell from the treeline into the mud below. Turning as I hit the boggy waters to look back I saw it... the trees themselves buckling and twisting, wrenching themselves free of their prisonlike roots. A bestial roar ripping through the cold nights air, that name again... than damnable name...

 

“Morghur”

 

 

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Work in progress for the head of my new Morghur Reborn, first stage of greenstuffing and there's alot of filling and editing to do when the initial structure has set but so far I think he's shaping up nicely. Ignore the two balls of greenstuff either side they're purely structural support whilst the structure sets as it otherwise would lean and warp the horns,

 

The plan is to use the Forgeworld Verminlord model as a base and use components from the Ghorgon GW models (hooves, tokens, attachments, gubbinz etc) to flesh it out and my treelord spares to fit him with the rest of the army.

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The Treelord, Kurnoth and Revenants are all permissable as simple headswaps. The latest model I need to gain permission after the model is assembled as they need to review a photo of the model to be used. However the events team were cool with the concept of using a forgeworld hobbit Troll brute with fungus on it as a treelord ancient in a fungal conversion theme I had proposed so I'm optimistic about this one.

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