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The Suneater Tribes Ogors and Aeloran Nomad Aelves now revisited for the Living City (19/09/19)


Melcavuk

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Its been a while since i did anything that majorly inspired me in terms of destruction for Age of Sigmar as it can be very challenging to get excited about a faction that can come off as two dimensional, whenever i start out a new project I tend to design and make one big centre piece model for the faction to get me inspired for what I'm going to be making. So looking at the most unloved of the destruction faction the Firebellies (one model, finecast).

 

I did like the lore of regarding Gorkamorka as the Great Suneater so working that forward I'm working on a faction that revels and reversed in the flame in all its forms, wanting nothing more than to turn the worlds around them into firey reflections of their gods laughing face. To this end I will be working on custom scrolls, models and fluff for the faction to grow them into arsonist based mixed destruction faction with unique spells and a story behind them.

 

So to give the concept some legs here is  an early WIP of Svangr Prophet of the Suneater atop his Magma Dragon

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Edited by Melcavuk
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3 minutes ago, Swooper said:

Love this project! Will be watching it develop with great interest!

Are you aware that "svangr" is Old Norse for "hungry"? xD

I was but only because I'd googled it. Thought it would be a more SIgmary way of relating to the Great Maw of old fantasy. 

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How I missed this thread when I replied to the other earlier today I don’t know. Must have been the glaring light of the sun ;)

Utterly amazing as always, a great centrepiece.

That said the captive human by the neck feels out of place to me, sorry.

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12 minutes ago, Trokair said:

How I missed this thread when I replied to the other earlier today I don’t know. Must have been the glaring light of the sun ;)

Utterly amazing as always, a great centrepiece.

That said the captive human by the neck feels out of place to me, sorry.

Cheers, its a fair call I'll see how well he takes to painting later and if neccessary nothing is impossible to remove.

Since I have an early start tomorrow I've had to pause him for the night but here's where he ended up so far:

 

 

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My other half has commandeered my airbrush to learn and gain confidence with it. Early results are promising!

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And my own Day two painting, trying to get the rider a bit more definition and building out details on his throne and captive

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Mustings on Warscroll

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Edited by Melcavuk
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More work completed on the Prophet on Magma Drake!

 

Horns have now all been touched up though i may go back and push the contrast when I'm done with the rest of the model. Have also added more edge highlighting across the rider, completed the straps on the saddles and tweaked some of the flame glow. Next I'll be working on the base before revisiting the riders accessories (rack of meat etc) and the dragons collar.

 

 

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Cheers I’m really happy with how he’s turning out.

 

introducing the top half of my first Gothi Fyri grot priest for the Suneaters. This one wears the garb of the Phoenix or more precisely that of any bright enough coloured bird to be mistaken for a Phoenix. A sign that even those great birds are but a meal for the Might Suneater.

 

His lower half will come from the moon clan herald tomorrow 

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A MALIGN PORTENTS STYLE INTRODUCTION

The Lord Aquillor felt wearied, for days his party had followed a trail of destruction that carved a scorched scar across the face of Shyish, villages that mere weeks before had been vibrant hubs of life that greeted them with looks of joyed salvation and relief now merely blackened husks of their former selves, silent but for the creaking of buckled wood straining against its own weights. The farming village of Tarrin was simply the most recent and yet for a reason he could not quite place it struck a chord within him that made the world seem that much heavier a burden, in the night before his vanguard had approach the flickering glow of the burning village from afar as though some cruel guiding star spurring them onwards through the night, the still air of the Realm of Death carrying the earthy scent of burnt wood occasionally punctuated by the stomach turning richness of burnt flesh.

 

When they reached the village outskirts the Aquillors eyes were drawn to the pyres encircling the village, a warning beacon perhaps... a last call for aid or the desperate attempt of a mortal soul trying to stave off the very darkness of the night in some last showing of defiance. His face was warmed by the still glowing embers buried beneath the crumbling wood, and yet this gave him no joy or relief. Mustering his resolve he tore his gaze from the pyre and brought his mind back to the task at hand, casting a glance down the debris strewn dirt path that led to the heart of the village and to his men that had moved up ahead. No building within the village had been spared the blaze, this destruction was unlike anything he had seen before, it was... absolute, precise even vindictive in its completeness, everything that could burn had been touched by the flame. And yet there were no bodies, a fact that instead of relief left him feeling hollow and apprehensive.

 

Following the dull crunch of his mens' boots grinding the charred debris into the dirt he picked his way further into the village, spurred once against from his darkening thoughts by a call from his second he leapt deftly over broken cart and cluttered remains, racing toward town square. When he approached his pace slowed, his second stood over a small cloaked form laying on the ground... its size was little more than that of a child yet so damaged was the cloak by the fire he reticent to turn it over. “Please not the children... his murmured softly, no amount of wars could ever ease the agony of such a discovery. Removing his golden helm and taking a knee in the dirt beside the broken and huddled form he reached out slowly, cradling it gently in his arms as he pulled the hood delicately away from its warped and burnt visage.

 

“Holy Sigmar...” The lord Aquillor cast the creature back down into the dirt, the leering visage of a grots twisted grin visible through the burnt skin, any relief he felt for the fact it had not been a human child washed away by the shock and disgust at the look of elation on the dead grots face. How any creature could look so over joyed at such an agonising demise was beyond him, but what worried him more was the totality of the villages destruction, Grots were capricious, violent yes... even malevolent and destructive but this blaze had an intensity, a completeness entirely out of character with the wanton and random destruction of their species. Whats more the creature cloak smelled sickeningly sweet, a smell he could remember from a life once lived so far away, like the ruby sands of the coast in Aqshy... a smell too far removed from this still and rotting realm.

 

Casting his gaze up from the creatures form he looked upon the town square for the first time and found the answer to a question that had nagged at his mind since they entered the village... “Where are all the people”. Piled, cluttered and thrown into great mounds in the centre of the village lay the charred remains of its populace, propped in seemingly ritualistic pyres of corpse and wood they formed a circle around a crudely carved boulder that was entirely out of place in this village of man. Its effigy was... Orruk... Ogor... some hideous beast at least, a primitive carving of their deity no doubt and yet its eyes seemed to burn into his very soul, an intense and unsettling glare from its stone features. Captivated he approached... picking his steps carefully to avoid desecrating the fallen villages, drawn to the monolithic stone head by some force he could not truly understand, was he drew close he extended a hand... at once curious and ill at ease with the situation his fingertips tentatively neared the effigy.

 

It was barely a brush of skin on stone... a second contact and yet he regretted it in the heartbeat. The glowing embers from the great stone maw roared to life with a heat and intensity unlike any flame the Lord Aquillor had ever known. The rush of air reverberating like a bestial roar echoing between the charred shells of the burnt out buildings.

 

“Run!”

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The first two Gothi Fyri have taken shape, each bearing their own unique totems of the Suneater that prove their devotion to this violent God.

It is said in Suneater tribes that no Ogor has ever held the rank of Priest to the Suneater, they claim that the deep and booming voices are too like the sounds of volcanoes erupting for the mighty god to distinguish them from the volatile realm of Aqshy and hear their pleas, meanwhile it is the shrill and piercing cries of the Grots that are unlike any other within the realm, able to pierce through the seismic rumbling and volcanic eruptions to irritate the god enough to earn his attention. It has been this way since the very beginnings of the tribe, those grots of particularly loud, shrill or annoying voices picked out from the crowd at a young age and thrown out into the wastelands to earn the attention of their God. Each is forced to live in exile until they return with a convincing token of their gods favour, though what is considered convicing is often left open to interpretation, some hunt the great phoenixes of the realm to try and carry off a cloak of flaming feathers as the warm (and burning) embrace of the suneater. Others climb to mountains top to pluck a shard of the great salamanders burning rocks from the very lip of a volcanoes edge. Ofcourse many more simply wait for a more competant grot to complete such a heroic feat and then the mob descend on them in a flurry of rocks and fists to steal their icon, such acts often amuse the Suneater enough to let pass... and in doing so he loses but a single priest and gains a handful more as their victims trophy gets divided up between them.

In battle the Gothi Fyri cut small figures, often able to hide behind the ranks of Suneaters that they might search for favour and blessing from the great god, it is this cowardice and cunning that makes them particularly adept at their jobs, often finding the resolve to channel the gods will when it benefits them most.

 

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When one looks upon the Slatr Warbeast it is hard not to be wowed by the majestic nature of this primal creature, it is not by any stretch of the imagination a creature of traditional beauty but one evolved perfectly for longevity and resilience. Indeed it has never been recorded of such a creature perishing due to natural causes lending credance to the theory that such a beast may be immortal lest for death by less natural themes. Its flattened and bullish face is akin to many a nightmare as a child with the full stretch of its maw measured at over a cart in width and atleast the same in  depth to the gullet though I have yet to find an apprentice willing to test that, when looking into its eyes you are struck by the sheer simplicity of the creature not burdened by higher thought or malice. The juviniles of the species are often found in migratory herds travelling alongside the Suneater tribes ofv Aqshy, seemingly drawn mothlike to the pyres to their privitive gods that these tribes are prone to igniting, indeed the subdued state these creatures enter in the prescense of such a blaze has allowed ramshackle howdahs to be assembled across the beasts broad backs. It is then sadly witnessed that when these savage tribes march to war they goad the Slatr alongside them, bombarding their enemies from afar with crude catapults launching burning debris down the battlefield. Such burning projectiles seemingly spur their mounts onwards chasing the bright lights racing across the sky

 

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Currently waiting on Warhammer World to get my delivery of the catapult in to finish of the first Slatr.

 

 

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What else is official GW/FW and fire-based, aside from the Fyreslayer stuff?

I guess you could re-purpose the Kdaai Fireborn from Forgeworld's Chaos Dwarf range, while a genuine Incarnate Elemental of Fire would cost a fortune (and that's assuming one ever came up for sale).

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