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“Choose your friends wisely and your enemies wiser still. Often the two may become the same.”

Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.

 

~

 

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“Call the Crows, count them in your hand.”

 

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“Three eyes, three talons, three wings.”

 

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“The eyes see weakness, mark the quarry.”

 

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“Cracked and cruel, bound in folly”

 

~

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“Familiarity breeds contempt. What then of love? What does that turn to over the long ages?”
Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.
 
~
 
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“Call the Crows, count them in your hand.”
 
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“Three eyes, three talons, three wings.”
 
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“Talons hold fast, kill quick. Steel and iron in their hands.”
 
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“Their loyalty is not born of love.”
 
~
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Morning everyone, how tricks?

This is a Sylvaneth project, honest. I mean, it's not like  I'm painting more Stormcast OH WAIT YES IT IS.

Ahem.

Anyway, I started the Palladors the other day - I wanted to try and get a corvid style look to the gryph-chargers rather than anything too feline or fancy, mainly to try and keep with the overall bleak and muted look of the project. Here's how the first one turned out:


I7bTvte.jpg?2 RAgMiS0.jpg?2

Really happy so far, and it was surprisingly quick and easy to do - only three paints and one glaze used. Now to replicate it on the other two....

Once the Palladors are done, that'll be the last of the Crow allies and its back to the Sylvaneth proper. Well, I say that - I mean it's on to converting some Melusai that I may have "accidentally" picked up on Ebay into bow-armed Kurnoth Hunter counts-as using some left over dryad bits. I'm not avoiding the 20 Spites, honest I'm not.

@Tommy Sorry for the late reply man, but thank you - I'm really happy with the metalwork, it's not overly shiny and fits nicely with the overall aesthetic of the project.

C&C welcome as always guys, always enjoy hearing from you.

Knave.

Edited by KnaveOfScribes
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Hello again everyone - sorry for the lack of replies, its been a busy old week and I've been quite distracted with Inq28 and 40k plans. I also didn't get any notifications about your comments, which was helpful.

Speaking of the gryphs, here's a shot of the second one I completed, showing the paints used and giving a better idea of the actual darker finish. I am getting a little concerned about the slight graininess of the pics my phone has been taking recently but I guess that's that problem with using a phone camera. Anyways, war-chicken ho:

5xnNgUZ.jpg?2


Bases and details left to do on all three now so they should hopefully get finished up this week. That finishes off all my Crowcast allies and means I can get back on to the actual Sylvaneth again. Will I be doing the Spites I know I should be doing? Ha! Course not, I'll be working on converting Melusai into my bow-armed Hunters. My Melusai turned up this weekend so I've already made a start on the most important thing - checking whether the Dryad torso will work on the Melusai snake bodies.

D0HApHn.jpg?2
 
Spoiler Alert: Yes it will. Obviously greenstuff is needed but ****** yeah I like where they are going. I'm currently working on the bow arms, trying to use a mix of dryad and revenant pieces to represent the bow itself actually growing out of the dryads own body rather than being something they are holding. Also trying to work out how to show that their arrows are literally pieces of themselves they snap off and fire at you. Super excited for this unit - yeah they're smaller than actual Kurnoth but I don't care. They'll look cool and creepy and work in the storyline so that's what matters most for me. I'll be doing 6 of them eventually but will show more of this tester once I poke her some more.

That's all from me for now folks, love to hear your thoughts and comments as always.

Knave.
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On 8/13/2018 at 3:51 AM, KnaveOfScribes said:

Morning everyone, how tricks?

This is a Sylvaneth project, honest. I mean, it's not like  I'm painting more Stormcast OH WAIT YES IT IS.

Ahem.

Anyway, I started the Palladors the other day - I wanted to try and get a corvid style look to the gryph-chargers rather than anything too feline or fancy, mainly to try and keep with the overall bleak and muted look of the project. Here's how the first one turned out:


I7bTvte.jpg?2 RAgMiS0.jpg?2

Really happy so far, and it was surprisingly quick and easy to do - only three paints and one glaze used. Now to replicate it on the other two....

Once the Palladors are done, that'll be the last of the Crow allies and its back to the Sylvaneth proper. Well, I say that - I mean it's on to converting some Melusai that I may have "accidentally" picked up on Ebay into bow-armed Kurnoth Hunter counts-as using some left over dryad bits. I'm not avoiding the 20 Spites, honest I'm not.

@Tommy Sorry for the late reply man, but thank you - I'm really happy with the metalwork, it's not overly shiny and fits nicely with the overall aesthetic of the project.

C&C welcome as always guys, always enjoy hearing from you.

Knave.

I like the idea very much! Is it okay if I use this for my army? I plan on basing them in the endless deserts setting created by @Mengel Miniatures for the Tomb Kings, and was thinking that the sylvaneth had started to worship certain gods of The Lost pantheon(Asaph in this case).

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Hello again everyone.

@TheR00zle - Use the idea by all means mate,  just give me a credit nod when you do :) Be great to see what you come up with.

@pseudonyme - Thanks man, that's much appreciated.

So yes, that Crone-touched Hunter conversion. I've got the first test one to the stage where she's ready for greenstuff and I have to admit that I'm pretty damn happy with how the basic conversion has worked and that my idea has translated into something pretty good looking. Here she is:

5zozSow.jpg?2cjVs75K.jpg?3
 
Still needs some greenstuff work around the waist to blend the snake and wood parts, as well as the back branch/crest and bow arm, but I really like her. In game terms these will be my bow armed Kurnoth Hunters (yeah I know they are smaller than the regular Hunters but meh, its my army and story/look > gaming) and in background terms they are more of the dryad puppets created by Mother Aldwynter - this time as a sinister kind of praetorian guard for herself. I think the fact that they are so slim and small compared to the regular Hunters actually works well as they will be avoiding physical combat a lot, unlike the larger combat orientated Hunters that will accompany Blessed Loclaranam.

I've got enough bits to finish off the first unit of three, but will need to get hold of some more dryad bits and another Melusai body to sort out the second unit. Plenty of time to get that done though and I still need to do some more battleline Spites.

Once I knew that this conversion was going to work, I turned my attention back to the last of the Crows. For some reason it feels like I've been painting these Palladors for months already and that there's still loads to do. There isn't really - just the tack and some small detailing - but dear god they are getting close to becoming a pain. I still love the models but I'm kind of glad I only did three and not the 9 plus Lord Aquilor I originally thought about. Here's how they look at the moment, freshly photographed this very morning:
 
hJilpTA.jpg?3

It's actually been pretty fun painting Stormcast for the last couple of months, a nice break from the wood and spirit forms etc, but I'm itching to get on with the rest of the Court now as the 2500pt target is in sight. After that, its probably some Inq28 and a small 40k army of Scions while I decide on either expanding the Court even more or starting a brand new AoS army. I might end up doing a smaller 1k or so AoS project for small scale games or skirmish stuff. Not sure yet.

C&C welcome as ever folks, love hearing from you all.

Knave.
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“Come join the murder, come fly with black…”
Traditional mourning dirge of the Bitterfruit Vale
 
~
 

ei85Pls.jpg?3

“Call the Crows, count them in your hand.”
 
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“Three eyes, three talons, three wings.”
 
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“Wings hunt swiftly, unseen on the wind.”
 
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“Ever behind you, the quickest cruelty.”
 
keLCZQu.jpg?3
 
~
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Super quick update today folks,

So its been a pretty decent hobby week really - I've found some cheap Tree Revenant legs on a bits site, so can start to use up my spare pieces to make the next 5 Spites; the regular Kurnoth are ready for painting (and I think will be reasonably quick to do as its back to wood and spirit forms) but need their intro-fluff doing, which is this weeks job; and I've got all three of the first unit of Crone-touched Hunters assembled to a base level and just needing greenstuff.

Here's a pic of them as they stand - one has a slightly different bow to the rest as I ran out of the specific dryad arm to match the others and wanted to try a slightly different take on it. Still works I think, and breaks up the unit a bit.

 

3oBToQe.jpg?3
 
I apologise for the state of that picture, I think my phone cam is really starting to struggle with taking decent pics, which is troubling. You get the general idea though. Load of greenstuff work to do still, and the bases of course. I really like them though, even if they are half the size of the regular Kurnoth.

That's all for today - Ill try and get some pics of all the Nine Crows together with Raest, or everything in the Court all together at some point soon. If anyone is on Instagram, you can find me as knave_of_scribes and see the latest Inq28 related distraction that the hobby magpie gifted me with. Once I've sorted out the story for that properly, I'll kick off a proper thread. I've also got to stop thinking about a Scion or Primaris Kill-team, a Scion 40k army and a Nighthaunt or Maggotkin AoS project....

Sigh.
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“The great and the good are often guilty of a simple sin: forgetting those of a simpler standing around them. You may not see or hear your servants, but someone will. And those unseen and unheard servants will have seen and heard a great deal themselves…”

Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.

 

“Loyalty is earned, not assumed.”

Attributed to Kwan-Xi, warrior philosopher of the Jade City of Shyish.

 

~

 

“This is madness. You know this is. They will never turn. It’s not in their heartwood to turn.” Moralanith felt his hand searching for the hilt of his falchion, a nervous grasping that closed around empty air. It wasn’t wise to go armed before them after all. He stared at the broad pale back of Blessed Loclaranam as the Reeve strode between the twisted trunks and snowbound frozen ground of the Darkwood with the easy grace of a beast of the forest.

 

Moralanith and his seed-kin had rejoiced at the return of their beloved Reeve, had felt the first faint stirring of the seed of hope in their ******. Hope that the creeping influence of the All-Hag could finally be countered, that their Kings madness could be talked back to sanity. But hope was a cruel and fragile seed. Blessed Loclaranam had changed in the long seasons he had spent beyond the borders of the Darkwood, beyond the boundaries of the Grey Marches itself, some whispered. True, he had returned stronger than ever; puissance smoked from him with every deep huffing breath and knowledge glittered in his golden eyes. But that same knowledge seemed to weigh heavy upon him, wore him down purely in the knowing of it. A price had been paid, and perhaps was still being paid.

 

“You go to your death. Yours and mine most likely. You do remember their purpose don’t you? His executioners, not just His guardians.”

 

Have faith little brother” the Reeve rumbled in reply, his voice the deep bass of a bull stag. Glyphs glowed in spirals on his white pelt.

 

“My faith, like all my seed-kin, grows on fallow ground,” replied Moralanith. “We would follow you to the Anathema’s very door, but this is still madness.”

 

He fell silent as they entered a clearing, a perfect circle of unbroken snow ringed by blackened trees that creaked and groaned like the dead as frozen winds whispered between skeletal branches. Blessed Loclaranam stood in the centre of the clearing, planted the butt of his immense scythe in the snow before him and threw his antlered head back to bellow at the sky. Moralanith felt the bellow as much as he heard it, like the tolling of a great bell or the beat of a huge drum. A call of challenge, of dominance.

 

“This is not wise….” He hissed, and then fell silent as they appeared.

 

They stepped from the shadows of the trees in pairs and trios, their numbers growing swiftly to a dozen, then a score. All were of a size to match the Reeve himself, all wrapped in thick sheaths of twisted dark hardwoods and layers of barbed thorns. Some carried huge cruel scythes, others long blades and every single one of them bore a rictus grin carved into the wood of their armoured faces.

 

The Kingsguard. His most feared servants, tasked with his protection and the punishment of those He deemed guilty. Silent in everything they did, twisted by cruelty and hate, a far cry from the noble envoys of Kurnoth they had once been. They stared at the Reeve with lambent eyes, cold unmoving smiles on every face, heavy with threat.

 

Blessed Loclaranam held their stare with his golden amber eyes, his bulk swollen with primal power. His steaming breath gusted into the cold air.

 

“Think on their name, little brother. The Kingsguard. The King’s…Guard.” He lowered his great antlered head in a single slow nod to the silent ranks of Kurnoth. “Are you thinking of it in the right way?”

 

Moralanith’s confusion crashed into understanding and then into stunned awe in the long minute that passed before every one of the feared Kurnoth inclined their own barbed and gnarled heads in reply to Blessed Loclaranam and silently and slowly bowed before him.

 

~

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“The cold and silent hand of our King, His will made manifest.”

 

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“The blade at the neck of those He judged guilty.”

 

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“We all stood in fear of them, we all avoided their fell regard.”

 

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“Implacable. Unceasing. Ever Loyal.”

 

~

 

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“Silence is always broken.”

Attributed to unknown Aelvish philosopher.

~

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“How long had they watched our King, their ward, and despaired?”

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“How long before despair turned to doubt, and doubt to detestation?”

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“We could never see beyond those carven smiles, those silent masks.”

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“How wrong we were about them.”

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“How glad we were to be wrong.”

~

 

Edited by KnaveOfScribes
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Afternoon folks - very quick update from me, just giving you an idea of what's coming up for the Court over the next few weeks.

So in terms of what's next for the Court, it's really a case of a few quick simple units. I've been a bit guilty so far of overlooking the battleline stuff I need to do in favour of fancier units or allies, which is a shame because not only do I really like the Spite-revenant models, they are ridiculously quick to paint. The target 2500pt list had 10 Tree and 25 Spite to do, of which I currently have the 10 Tree and 5 of the Spites done. Another 5 Spites is on the workbench right now, and I've decided to drop 5 of the planned Spites in favour of another Branchwych. This is in part due to the effectiveness in-game of 5 Spites vs a Wych (even if gaming is a very secondary thing now) but mainly due to aesthetic reasons - while the Revenant models are lovely, they are a little limited in terms of options and poses and I think 30 is enough to show variation without repetition. Also I wont go mad painting all that wood. The other reason for doing another Branchwych is that I will probably end up using the Nightvault Briar Queen model as the basis because dear Lord she is lovely. And also pretty fitting as the Maiden... Then of course there's the new Shadespire Sylvaneth warband that'll be out at some point. Exciting.

Here's the obligatory terrible workbench picture:

 
T4jWd2w.jpg?2


Apologies for the quality. But you should be able to see the next 5 Spites, the first 3 Crone-touched Hunters, and two blue ghosty girls who will be the Vasili Sisters. That'll make sense, I promise. The Spites and the Sisters will be fully built and undercoated by the end of today so should be coming up soon.

Thanks for all your interest and comments so far folks, always makes my day to hear from you.

Knave

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“In preparation for our cartographic explorations, it is common to spend a not-inconsiderable amount of time engaged in detailed research of the lands to which we are to voyage. This research encompasses not only historical and current documents, but also the legends and folktales of the indigenous peoples, in order to better understand them and their lives.

Our expedition to the Grey Marches was no different and in the course of our research the following tale was unearthed. All the more unsettling for its matter-of-fact delivery, we were unprepared for exactly how literal this folktale would prove to be…."

Excerpt from Travels Through The Realms, Unfinished. Dieter van Ganza of Anvilguard.

 

~

 

vRWeNhw.jpg?2mqnIQjx.jpg?2

 

Many long years ago, two young sisters were searching the great Darkwood for food and instead found the crooked cottage of Mother Aldwynter. The old woman who lived within welcomed the two girls and offered them a gift each. The vainest sister demanded a pretty bauble that hung from the dark rafters, while the humblest sister asked for only a few bones from Mother Aldwynter’s cook-pot, so that she could make some soup for her family.

 

The crooked old woman gave the girls their gifts and sent them on their way with an iron-toothed smile.

 

Later that night the bones from Mother Aldwynter’s cook-pot burst into flame where they lay in the family’s pot while the vain sister played with her pretty bauble and the rest of her family slept. The flames burnt hot and fierce, and burned the sisters, humble and vain both, and their parents and brothers and their hut all to the ground.

 

The moral of the story is this: never trust a gift freely given.

 

jIKZLRA.jpg?21RCayZZ.jpg?2

 

“….did not realise the danger immediately. Symeon seemed entranced by the trinket dangled by one of the haints and would not be moved, even as he froze in the chill around the whispering haint. As for the other, the one that screamed and thrashed those rawbones around, some devil-cursed flame erupted from whatever they touched and would not be extinguished. We ran from those cursed sisters, ran like children ourselves.”

Personal journal of Dieter van Ganza.

 

LcvzL89.jpg?3

 

~

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“The capacity for cruelty lies within us all. Some are just more comfortable with their malice than others, and embrace the relief of not having to pretend anymore.”

Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.

 

“I don’t care what anyone says, those things are as bad as the Ruin-beasts that they took such glee in tearing apart.

Collem Worl, veteran of the Cold Iron Brigade, Free Peoples Militia of Harrowdown.

 

~

 

Mother Aldwynter leaned on her crooked staff and watched as the Spites slipped from the breach like half-seen shadows and came back into the cold embrace of the Darkwood. The cold air filled with whispers and hissing laughter that danced around the old woman with a quiet malice. The great twisted boles and branches of the blackened trees that formed the frame of the breach, like some immense dark wooden doorframe, seemed to shiver and move against one another in ways that they should not as the thorned and skeletal Spites emerged from it. One of them, a slender female bearing curling horns upon her brow, stepped forward through the gently falling snow and inclined her head in greeting.

 

“Hello grandmother. It’s nice of you to welcome us back. This cold must be awful for your bones.” There was a playful spitefulness in her voice, a touch of mockery in her glittering eyes. Mother Aldwynter ignored it, as she always did when these maddened tree-folk spoke to her. They couldn’t help their nature, after all.

 

“I welcomed this cold into my iron bones long before you were even a seedling in warmer lands, Nilith.” Mother Aldwynter tightened her grip on her crooked staff, the hanging skulls swaying and clacking against each other above her head. “Now tell me, did you find it?”

 

“Oh come now grandmother, you know we always worry about our elders,” crooned Nilith, reaching out with one slim talon towards the ratty grey hair hanging over Mother Aldwynter’s face. “Tell me, beloved Crone, does your eye still ache? Do you still feel the gentle touch of our Queen?”

 

“Touch me,” snarled the old woman with iron in her teeth and voice, “and I will set you to burn like I did the last of your foolish kin to touch me.”

 

Nilith smiled widely and turned to look at another Spite emerging from the twisting breach. Thick ironbark covered most of his form, lending him a bulk that seemed out of place amongst his slender kin. More out of place still was the graven obsidian mask that covered his head, a howling visage crowned with crudely carved horns.

 

“Ah yes, the Kurst.” The she-Spite sighed dramatically. “Such a shame, he had such a pretty face as well. Still, it was amusing watching him make that primitive little duardin craft that mask for him. I gather his face still pains him as much as your eye pains you.”

 

“Enough, little tree-******. Remember who I am and what I have done for you for you and your kin, and your King. Now, did you find it?”

 

“Well the Anathema’s kingdom is very big, and of course we couldn’t stay there for very long….” Nilith gestured towards the breach, where the Kurst had reached back with cruel hands and was now dragging something through.

 

It wailed as it came through, screamed as nothing in the Darkwood had screamed before, and was wrapped in sheets of blinding ethereal light. It was hard to see exactly what lay beneath the harsh glare of the deadlights it wore and behind the sawing screams that cut through the frozen air, but something twisted in chains of briars and thorns. Something slender and feminine.

 

“But yes Baba,” sighed Nilith, mockingly nonplussed. “We found her.”

 

~

 

jO0Iy2v.jpg?2

 

“We have been called the Gentle Folk, though there is nothing gentle about us.”

 

wk1DiCI.jpg?2

 

“You say we sing beautifully, but you would not wish to hear our song.”

 

Q9n9lXr.jpg?2

 

“You say we are the grace and wonder of life, but we are the pain and cruelty of nature.”

vmpMMX5.jpg?2

 

“We are the spite and malice of the failed harvest, the stillborn infant, the long winter.”

 

41dlm1G.jpg?2

 

“Hear our whispers and know our madness.”

 

~

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8 hours ago, KnaveOfScribes said:

hPDjb7n.jpg?1

 

“The capacity for cruelty lies within us all. Some are just more comfortable with their malice than others, and embrace the relief of not having to pretend anymore.”

Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.

 

“I don’t care what anyone says, those things are as bad as the Ruin-beasts that they took such glee in tearing apart.

Collem Worl, veteran of the Cold Iron Brigade, Free Peoples Militia of Harrowdown.

 

~

 

Mother Aldwynter leaned on her crooked staff and watched as the Spites slipped from the breach like half-seen shadows and came back into the cold embrace of the Darkwood. The cold air filled with whispers and hissing laughter that danced around the old woman with a quiet malice. The great twisted boles and branches of the blackened trees that formed the frame of the breach, like some immense dark wooden doorframe, seemed to shiver and move against one another in ways that they should not as the thorned and skeletal Spites emerged from it. One of them, a slender female bearing curling horns upon her brow, stepped forward through the gently falling snow and inclined her head in greeting.

 

“Hello grandmother. It’s nice of you to welcome us back. This cold must be awful for your bones.” There was a playful spitefulness in her voice, a touch of mockery in her glittering eyes. Mother Aldwynter ignored it, as she always did when these maddened tree-folk spoke to her. They couldn’t help their nature, after all.

 

“I welcomed this cold into my iron bones long before you were even a seedling in warmer lands, Nilith.” Mother Aldwynter tightened her grip on her crooked staff, the hanging skulls swaying and clacking against each other above her head. “Now tell me, did you find it?”

 

“Oh come now grandmother, you know we always worry about our elders,” crooned Nilith, reaching out with one slim talon towards the ratty grey hair hanging over Mother Aldwynter’s face. “Tell me, beloved Crone, does your eye still ache? Do you still feel the gentle touch of our Queen?”

 

“Touch me,” snarled the old woman with iron in her teeth and voice, “and I will set you to burn like I did the last of your foolish kin to touch me.”

 

Nilith smiled widely and turned to look at another Spite emerging from the twisting breach. Thick ironbark covered most of his form, lending him a bulk that seemed out of place amongst his slender kin. More out of place still was the graven obsidian mask that covered his head, a howling visage crowned with crudely carved horns.

 

“Ah yes, the Kurst.” The she-Spite sighed dramatically. “Such a shame, he had such a pretty face as well. Still, it was amusing watching him make that primitive little duardin craft that mask for him. I gather his face still pains him as much as your eye pains you.”

 

“Enough, little tree-******. Remember who I am and what I have done for you for you and your kin, and your King. Now, did you find it?”

 

“Well the Anathema’s kingdom is very big, and of course we couldn’t stay there for very long….” Nilith gestured towards the breach, where the Kurst had reached back with cruel hands and was now dragging something through.

 

It wailed as it came through, screamed as nothing in the Darkwood had screamed before, and was wrapped in sheets of blinding ethereal light. It was hard to see exactly what lay beneath the harsh glare of the deadlights it wore and behind the sawing screams that cut through the frozen air, but something twisted in chains of briars and thorns. Something slender and feminine.

 

“But yes Baba,” sighed Nilith, mockingly nonplussed. “We found her.”

 

~

 

jO0Iy2v.jpg?2

 

“We have been called the Gentle Folk, though there is nothing gentle about us.”

 

wk1DiCI.jpg?2

 

“You say we sing beautifully, but you would not wish to hear our song.”

 

Q9n9lXr.jpg?2

 

“You say we are the grace and wonder of life, but we are the pain and cruelty of nature.”

vmpMMX5.jpg?2

 

“We are the spite and malice of the failed harvest, the stillborn infant, the long winter.”

 

41dlm1G.jpg?2

 

“Hear our whispers and know our madness.”

 

~

What cruel horror are you going to release upon that poor girl? also will it be another sylvaneth or an ally?

 

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Hello again everyone - how's tricks?

A few quick updates today, plus a little painting guide which some people on Instagram asked for - thought I might as well pop it up here as content for the Content God and in case any of you fine folks find it useful.

@TheR00zle - Well, she will be a Sylvaneth, technically. I need a second Branchwych for a variety of reasons and there's a model I have in mind for her.

@aquenaton - Thanks man, really kind of you to say that :)

@SatanicBrew - Cheers bud, much appreciated. The Crone-touched will be coming soon actually, promise.

Progress then. Much has been made. Well, I say much, but its mainly been planning progress. The next 5 Spites are pretty much done - just the mask on the champion and the owl marker to finish, and the snow to add to the bases. I've said it before, but I really love how the Spites look and how simply they are to paint while still looking great. 10 more at least of those to do. Once they are done in the next few days, I'll be greenstuffing the Crone-touched and getting them painted up.

After that, I'll probably be adding the second Branchwych and I really should do another Wyldwood base or two, even if the thought alone of that kinda bores me a bit. Ah well.

I was also thinking last night, which is always dangerous. The current target for the Darkwood Court is a 2500pt list. But it would be super easy to add another 500pts and get to a nice round 3k. Specifically, adding a Spirit Of Durthu and potentially the Sylvaneth Shadespire/Nightvault warband would easily eat up that 500pts. Now,  in terms of the Durthu, it would of course be real easy to just do a standard build with a few tweaks - I've seen a fair few online using the Pendulum spell marker as a weapon and leaves from the Citadel Woods as a shield, and they do look pretty ace. But I kinda like the Court being so small and close to death that it can only let the Warmasked walk as its only Treelord now. And I also like the idea of having another fairytale Slavic-style thing in the mix. Maybe something big and godbeast-like. Maybe something corvid.

Yeah, I'm currently considering chopping a Lord of Change into a big old ragged god-crow. Maybe.

Yes,  I have hobby-problems.

Anyways, still mulling that one over. In the mean time, here's a painting guide for how I do the spirit-forms on my Sylvaneth, as a fair few people online have asked for it:

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Step 1: base coat of pure Pale Blue.

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Step 2: glaze with 70/30 mix of Black Glaze and Electric Blue, thinned down with Medium of your choice.

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Step 3: highlight with thinned 50/50 mix of Pale Blue and White. Do this in two thin coats - don't worry if the first looks quite translucent, you want that so that the shading shows through and adds to the ghost-like look. Use the 2nd coat to firm up the highlights and details.

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Step 4: final highlight with thinned pure White. Again, two thin coats to keep the translucency where you want it and to firm up the opaqueness where you want it. Keep it loose and natural, this is a spectral form after all, not a solid armour plate.

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Step 5: final glaze with very very thin Black Glaze. Very thin. Use this to shade the recesses a bit and to knock back some of the glare of the pure white highlights.

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And that's it really. For the Vasili Sisters I actually went back and did a repeat of the final white stage, just to up their spectral feel.

That's all for today guys, thanks as always for your comments and interest - always great to see your comments on stuff.

Knave

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natAPTH.jpg?1

 

“Cruelty is learnt, malice you are born with.”

Attributed to Kwan-Xi, warrior philosopher of the Jade City of Shyish.

 

~

 

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“We have become a Court of malice, of madness.”

 

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“A Court of the cruelty and harshness of winter.”

 

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“The bleak and the broken, the indifference of the wild.”

 

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“You’ll find no comfort in our cold boughs.”

 

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~

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qJtgm63.jpg?1

 

“There is, on occasion, an entirely correct belief that some things are best forgotten.”

Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal.

 

“She claims Ghyran as if only She can create life. Foolish. There are many kinds of life and many ways of creating it. A puppet has a kind of life…”

Mother Aldwynter

 

~

 

Seranam cursed as the ghuls pushed deeper into the hallowed Darkwood, their croaking cries and stale animal stink filling the cold air. He had pulsed a sending through the rootways as soon as the fleshborn had drawn close to the border, but the Darkwood was vast and his fellow sentinels few in number. The ghuls were strong in number, as their verminous kind always were, and he was alone and thus could only follow and watch as they tainted the sacred forest with their beast-hot presence. To attack alone would be foolish, to simply watch was galling.

 

Deeper and deeper the pack went, scratching at themselves and the bark of the great trees surrounding them, coughing at each other in that crude animal way they spoke. They lit pitch-soaked rags that they had wrapped around fallen branches, the rough torches guttering a rot-yellow light that did little to breach the darkness of the forest. Shadows danced around them and the darkness behind the great boles of the Darkwood moved and shifted in turn.

 

When it came, it was the torch-bearing ghuls that died first. Seranam heard a jagged keening split the cold air as ghuls suddenly sprouted long gnarled shafts from their sinewy chests and bestial heads. They fell, pierced through, scattering burning rags and torches as they did so, some into the snow and others into their own flesh or kin. Greasy clothing and flesh caught light, the ghuls baying in their panicked animal way at the dead and dying, and the spiteful darkness that hurt them.

 

More keening shafts flashed in, finding homes in warm bodies. Some tore entirely through ghuls, erupting in gouts of blood that looked almost black in the moonlight. The pack milled around in screaming confusion, enraged at its own slaughter as more lived were claimed by gnarled and twisting shafts.

 

And then it was over, as quickly as it had begun. The fleshborn lay in the snow, some burning fitfully, others clawing weakly at the shafts that pinned them, others entirely still. Mewling cries and hisses filled the uncaring night air.

 

Seranam stepped forward slowly, bent to pull a shaft from the cooling body of one of the fleshborn. It came free with a sucking sound, the long slender spar of twisted and gnarled wood glittering with venom. It had an unpleasantly organic look, as through grown rather than fashioned as a normal arrow would be. The tree-spirit cursed again, dropping the foul thing and straightened to gaze into the shadows between the trees, searching for any sign of the packs killers. He saw them then, winding between the darkness and the smoke of the burning fleshborn, lit by the gathering wyrdlights of the Darkwood.

 

They crept forward sinuously on the tails of great serpents, skeletally slender lisovyk bodies towering above him. Twisted branches and long thorns crested their carved bodies, all glittering with the same venom as the shafts. Huge bows of twisted wood grew from their arms and as Seranam watched, one snapped a gnarled straight branch from her body and nocked it slowly.

 

“What in the Everqueen’s name are you?” he breathed, his own obsidian blade heavy in his hand.

 

A growing sibilant hiss and the keening screech of the shaft being loosed was his only reply.

 

~

 

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“And this is how she makes them.”

 

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“With ropes of braided corpse-hair and poppets of dead wood.”

 

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“With harvested souls from her garden and the shed scales of the wyrm.”

 

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“Pierced with iron nails from the timbers of her cottage and marked with the blood of her eye.”

 

~

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On 10/8/2018 at 8:24 AM, KnaveOfScribes said:

@TheR00zle

@aquenaton

@SatanicBrew

Yeah, I'm currently considering chopping a Lord of Change into a big old ragged god-crow. Maybe.

Yes,  I have hobby-problems.

Anyways, still mulling that one over. In the mean time, here's a painting guide for how I do the spirit-forms on my Sylvaneth,

Thanks for the painting guide! I'm always looking for help painting very pale daemonic flesh, this is quite helpful :D

Also holy ****** Lord of Crows!

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