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The Mountain Wakes | Dragon Ogor Folkhorror Project


The Brotherhood of Necros

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Darkoth! Sharunrock! Gathor! By lightning’s strike and thunder’s roar they wake and dream and war forever more.

My latest project is the Beasts of Chaos. My theme is dragon ogors.

I’ve loved these guys since childhood, when my dad used to bring out the old metal Marauder versions for his battles.

More recently, I’ve been moved by the descriptions of them as titanic monsters, more dragon than ogor; incalculably old and utterly indifferent to the rest of the denizens crawling like ants through the Mortal Realms.

I don’t feel that GW‘s official models have ever captured that. Cladding them in armour and shrinking them to the size of monstrous infantry takes away a lot of that raw, elemental majesty (for me). These should be gods, or at least worshipped as such by the lesser races, warherds drawn to the shadow of the mountain in which they sleep to pray and rut and offer up their brackish blood to the snow and the rain and the vast silhouettes scaling the peaks like the claws and teeth of the mountains themselves.

Not usually one for WIP shots, but as I’ve been working on this guy for a little while now. The big guy himself, played as the Chaos Warstomper or perhaps the Krondspine Incarnate. I hope you like. ⛈ 

Insta: the_mountain_wakes 📸 

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The wind, it bites. The stones, they slice. We are ate up. It eats. We eat. We wish. We dream of Him, and His. They dream, and in Their dream They hear us. Please, hear us. Feed us. Warm us in the heat of battle. Wake and fill us up. Not yet. But soon. Please, soon. Hear us. Feed us. Please.

My first painted Beasts! 

These are five of my converted ungor (with and without digital effects), scrabbling through the snow in search of anything to eat.

Insta: the_mountain_wakes 📸

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Edited by The Brotherhood of Necros
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I was ten winters, the first time the snows came. Big, fat flakes, they were. The sky, a coarse blanket. The whole thing like reams of dry skin, scratched and shaken from inside my wool hat. My first memory of that snow is warmth. Being warm, watching from the old fireside as outside turned all white. I am not warm now. No fire burns to keep the chill from the nubs where once my fingers wriggled and twitched. Up here, the whole world is white, and cold, and dead, a bed of sloughed flakes in which we turn and moan and dream of Him. Of Them. 

Ungor 6 of 10 (with and without digital effects). I finished my first unit this week! 

Insta: @the_mountain_wakes 📸

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Darkoth! Sharunrock! Gathor! By lightning’s strike and thunder’s roar they wake and dream and war forever more.

My first of three converted dragon ogor shaggoths (with and without digital effects). I was excited to get him painted this week before I go back to work. 

Insta: the_mountain_wakes 📸

 

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I hear you over the wind. I smell you through the snow. I taste you under the cold. Run, little man-thing. Run as fast as you can. I will chase until your small ears hear the stomp of my hooves and your weak nose picks up my powerful musk and your mouth fills with the taste of me, the bitter taste of your animal fear.

My first gor!

 

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Edited by The Brotherhood of Necros
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