KnaveOfScribes

I do love the setting you've come up with and I for one can't wait to see what other ideas you've got for the various kingdoms and domains that make up your setting. Also, as mentioned elsewhere, your Ironjawz are looking glorious. Glorious.

Afternoon chaps - thanks for all your comments about the King-In-Horns, very much appreciated. @DeathCat147 - haha, insert reply made elsewhere ;) Also, painting news! Well, not news as such but more of an update - a few hours work the other night and all of a sudden the throne part is looking like this: Only a few small details on the branches to do and the snow to add to the base and its all done, leaving only the King himself to paint. I'll probably do another quick "build and paint" post at some point about him as there's a few little touches I'm pretty proud of in terms of visual story-telling and all that jazz. But there's not much left to do there at all. Hopefully the bits I ordered for my Durthu stand-in will arrive soon, as well as the Nightvault warband becoming available and I'll be able to get the last few things done. Then it'll be time for a little break doing some Inq28 and Blackstone Fortress while deciding on the next AoS project. Its still going to be something chunky and armoured, I'm just not sure what flavour yet. More soon folks, Knave

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. That being said, why not take the damned thing off? We create our own shackles, our own chains, and then we rail and curse against them. Oft times, our madness or despair or shame is entirely caused by our own obsessions and a fundamental inability to just let things go...” Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal. “Do you think She even remembers that She once had a husband? Do you think that She would care? Ask yourself this; what truly caused your exile?” Mother Aldwynter ~ “I wear this crown of thorns” “Upon my liars brow.” “Full of broken thoughts” “I can not repair.” ~

You already know I love all of this, you beautiful hobby person you, but have some more kudos because ****** you deserve it. Especially for those Ironjawz. My word.

Afternoon folks, and as always thanks for your continued interest in this project.@Orsino - Thanks very much man, great to hear you're enjoying the background as much as everything else. @Kirjava13 - Cheers buddy, much appreciated @DeathCat147 - Hahaha, de ja vu But thanks as always mate, means a lot coming from yourself. So, we are getting pretty close to the end of the Darkwood Court project - or at least the end for now. With the revamp of the FEC battletome, I have no doubts that something similar will happen with the Sylvaneth at some point, which will be a nice time to go back and look at adding some things. In the mean time though, I do still have to come up with a Durthu counts-as, potentially another Branchwych, and get the King-In-Horns done. Speaking of which, I have completed his throne, and here is how it looks at the moment: I'm very very glad that I was convinced to go for Kurdoss over the Yncarne as the base for the King. Only a couple of little tweaks left to do on the King himself and then it'll be ready for proper pics and painting. That will all be coming very soon.Also, ****** hell yes I will be picking up that Nightvault Sylvaneth warband because sweet Jesus they are gorgeous. And will fit the narrative of the Court very nicely. Also also, if you fancy a look at something a little different, please take a gander at mine and others Instagrams for the #grimdarkcards challenge - it's an awesome little collaborative Blanchitsu project with some fantastic entries so far. My own 10 of Chaos was a madness-inducing feathery, leafy nightmare for a short while but is looking rather decent before painting. I also think I'm fairly set on Maggotkin next, because 40k leaves me feeling meh for the most part. Nurgle with a twist though. More to come soon, Knave

“It is said he hung from the tree for nine days and nine nights, and in that time he learnt the greatest truth of all – knowledge comes from suffering.” Fragment of common folk tale from the Hrafn Weald of Ghyran. ~ “Are you, are you, coming to the tree” “Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.” “Strange things did happen here, but no stranger would it be” “If we met at midnight” “By the hanging tree.” ~

“We know what happens when we die. We know which afterlife, which corner of Shyish we are intended for. We know that one of several Gods will claim our souls and we know that death is not the end, that we can be reborn, reforged, stolen, reused. Where then, is the sting of death? Why fear it, when it is clearly not the end.” Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal. “She claims sole dominion over her Realm, but She forgets that She was not the only mother to a Kingdom.” Mother Aldwynter ~ The Crone-touched drifted between the dark trunks of the dead trees of the Darkwood, eerily silent and serene in spite of their twisted and cracked bodies. Hunched and gnarled, trailing ragged curtains of spirit-form, they moved through the sprawling expanse of the forest in silent echo of the fully living treekin that they had once been. Try as he might, Moralanith could see nothing in them of the kin that they used to be – no ghosts of memories, no faint whisperings of song. The Crone may claim that all she did was heal those who could be saved, but Hers was a bitter medicine indeed and Moralanith would not have wished it upon any of his kin. And yet more and more, the Crone’s nursing was called upon by the King-In-Horns, and more of the true-kin bore her touch. The new wych, who called herself the Harvest Maiden, bore the mark of the Crone proudly, gloried in it. Worrying that one who was tasked with the tending of the grove and its true-kin would willingly embrace such a thing. Even the insane Spites of the Kings inner circle were not immune, as many of their number disappearing into the crooked cottage as did those of Moralanith’s fellow Guardians. They would not admit it, but the mad had just as much to lose from the attentions of Mother Aldwynter as did the sane. Even crippled and wounded as she was, as old and weak as she appeared to be, the Crone was still a danger, a cancerous worm at the heart of the Darkwood. Aye, she may claim to be something more, to once be something greater than she currently was, but this was nothing but the arrogance of the fleshborn and their insistence in their own self-importance. She was nothing but a bitter old and twisted witch, and dangerous enough at that. The more her touch spread throughout the Darkwood, the harder it would be to cut her rot out from the heartwood. The time would come soon to move against her, to remove the blight. He trusted in the Reeve, even if the grove’s Elders and his own king were blinded by their age and madness. Mother Aldwynter’s time would come, and the Darkwood was nothing if not patient. It would endure, as it always had. ~ “Bring me your wounded, your broken and twisted.” “Give me your tired, your weary, your dying, yearning to be free.” “Ragged they will come, and ragged they will fall,” “And I will tend them and keep them, and raise them into something more.” ~

“Artists and craftsmen will tell you that the act of creation is as close to that of childbirth as it is possible to come. These people, by and large, are fools. Rare is the painting or chair that is created amidst blood, screaming and curses.” Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal. “Her touch spreads ever more throughout the Darkwood. We see her children everywhere now, serpentine and fell. She is a canker, a rot. An ancient worm at the breast of our heartwood.” Moralinith of the Darkwood Court ~ Mother Aldwynter sat and brooded. Hunched beneath her crooked staff, wrapped in shadows and rotting cloth, she sat and gnawed the gristle of her thoughts. The Court still resisted. This realm still resisted. Raest and his Crows had hunted well, had dealt with almost every little broken or forgotten godling that had found a place to hide, but still some still lived. And Mother Aldwynter would not share this fragmented realm with any other. Old she may be, and weak she may be, and a pale echo of what she once was, but she was still herself. Iron-toothed and iron-boned, as ancient and cold as winter itself. And she would be whole once more. But first she must deal with the Court. Their shattered King was easy enough, his madness and spite towards the Everqueen was child's play to manipulate, even if he himself was no longer sure why he hated her or what had led to his exile. And her touch was spreading further and further throughout the treekin themselves, as insidious as the King’s own madness. No, the resistance did not lay there. She knew where to find it, knew where her axe must fall. A champion, a herald and a grove of Elders. All must fall so that the sisters could be together and become one again. Mother Aldwynter sat and brooded, her thoughts as tangled and twisting as an insane spider’s web. A web that stretched across these Grey Marches and trapped all within it, whether they knew it or not. Her children gathered around her, serpentine bodies gliding through snow and around trunks of dead wood. Her priest stood behind her and whispered to her of gates and portals, of gatherings of the living and the dead, and of the passages they took between the Realms. She sat, and brooded, and planned, and listened, and felt the life trickle oh-so-slowly from her bloody and empty socket. And then she smiled a crooked iron-toothed smile, and told her children where they must go and what they must do, and even her dead priest began to feel a little fear. ~ "If to create is godly, and birth is creation – am I not a god?” "If to be worshipped is godly, and my children love me – am I not a god?” “If to smite is godly, and my children protect me – am I not a god?” “If to rule is godly, and I will rule this realm – will I not be a god?” "All mothers are gods to their children, and I have many children.” ~

Afternoon folks, apologies for the delayed update and replies, but thanks very much for your comments @elfhead - thanks man, much appreciated. Took a lot of inspiration from the background you did for your Slaaneshi Elf project, so thanks for that as well. @Arnied3 - ha thanks man, side projects are a bit of a problem for me haha. Stupid magpie brain. Update time on the project then, as we head into the last few things for the Court. First up, paint-in-progress and work-in-progress on the last two units. Both Crone-touched, another unit of Hunters and another unit of Spites. The Hunters are very close to complete, with only details and the bases left to finish. The Spites are at the first assembly stage and still need a lot of detail added, a lot of gap filling and a lot of texture added. They should be reasonably quick to finish off though. I apologise in advance for the pics, Imgur is having issues at the moment with advanced editing, so they are rather basic. Still pleased with how the Crone-touched stuff has turned out overall, think it really adds something to the look of the project and saved me from going mad doing the same few units over and over again. Come on GW, how hard would it be to add a few units to the Sylvaneth book for variety? And then I also started work on this, because why concentrate on one thing at a time? I've mentioned before that I will be having a Drycha counts-as in the Court, to run as my mad King. I was initially thinking about using the Yncarne as the base for him, as its a gorgeous model, but the more I looked at it the more I realised that it was quite Eldary, and not as easy to tweak into a Sylvaneth thing as I first thought without huge amounts of work that would take away from the overall look of the model. My next port of call was another very different model, but one that is just as ace in different ways, and one that fit the established look of the Court already. Bonus points, he was already a mad King of sorts. C'est la; Obviously this is super rough mock-up at the moment, just to make sure the idea works. Which it does. Hurrah. Once the branches are repositioned and the throne in place, there'll be a lot of work to do to blend the throne into the tree and add all kinds of woody details and roots and so on. Hail to the King. That's all for now folks, more to come once the Hunters are done and more progress has been made on the King. I also need to start gearing up for the madness that will be my Durthu, as well as wait eagerly for the Underworlds Sylvaneth warband, and potentially start planning something altogether more armoured and lightning-like. Cheers, Knave

“I tell you, in all my travels, in all my long journeys into unknown territories that I have undertaken – I have never turned back. Not once.” Excerpt from Travels Through The Realms; Unfinished by Dieter van Ganza of Anvilguard. ~ “Day 12; Erik says he saw the beast again last night, watching us. His description of it is overly fanciful – some hybrid of wolf and tree? Some antlered giant hound? I might cut the men’s rum rations, just to be sure more of this wayward whimsy does not happen...” “Day 16; Gods’ teeth, I saw it myself last night. Or rather, I saw something. It did indeed have the shape of a huge wolf or hound, but... I cannot explain the spear-long antlers. Nor the graven wooden visage. What is this beast that stalks us so?” “Day 19; The howling keeps us awake at night. Envoy recommends that we plug our ears with rags or wax, but even so the knowledge that it is stalking and watching us keeps us from sleep. And even muted, the howls are terrible still. I fear for the sanity of the men, especially Erik, who grows more obsessed with the beast each day...” “Day 22; We wake this morning to find Erik gone. His gear remains, as more worryingly so do his clothes. Why would he leave in the night? And why is he naked? Envoy tells us he found tracks, a barefoot man, journeying out into the snowfields. He tells us they ended in front of another set of prints, those of huge paws, as though Erik was in audience with the hound. What happened there? Did Erik speak to the beast? Why was it waiting for him?” “Day 23; I do not know how to speak of this. Last night, we all saw it. The giant spectral Hound, in the distance, running through the cold night air and the snow. The awful howling of it and others like it. And there we saw Erik. Naked, sweat-slathered and naked despite the snow. Chasing...no, following the Hound, running in its wake. Baying and screaming himself like a man bereft of all his sense. His eyes, wild and glittering... There was no reason there, none at all. Only the thrill of the Hunt.” ~

All the love for these chaps. I already hearted the hell out of them on Instagram but ****** they look good man.

“We create in our own image. That being said, how many of us can say that we truly see ourselves for what we are? It follows then, that creation may often be the birth of a falsehood.” Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal. “Life is neither good nor bad; it simply is. It is what you choose to make of life that turns it good or bad.” Attributed to Kwan-Xi, warrior philosopher of the Jade City of Shyish. ~ “It is no small thing, to carve a poppet and give it life.” “To birth a child and raise it.” “To make of it a vessel for all your future hopes.” “They are my spite, my hate, my bitterness given form. My cruellest poppets.” ~

I'll throw my hat into the ring for this as well, even if the narrative/themed/story driven project side of things seems to have a fair few of us already volunteering as tribute.

Well, that was a lengthy old break wasn't it? Apologies for the lack of updates recently folks, but with the festive period and wanting a small break from painting dead trees constantly, I didn't do all that much on the Court over the last 3 weeks or so. Those of you kind enough to find me on Instagram may have seen the recent monochrome Blackstone Fortress characters I painted as a fun little break over the last couple of weeks - it was certainly a different challenge to paint like that, but I'm very happy with how they turned out. It's back to the Court now though, with the last few units in sight for the 3k total. On the list to build and paint we have: - 3 more Crone-touched Hunters - 5 more Crone-touched Treekin - The King-In-Horns himself - My Durthu stand-in. Units wise, that's everything left to do. I guess I should paint at least 3 more Wyldwood bases but as gaming isn't a big thing for me at the moment, I don't think that's particularly urgent or necessary. I'll also probably be adding the Underworld Sylvaneth band when it comes out, because why not. Other than that, my next AoS plans are a little vague at the moment - I kind of want to do something visually different for the next army project, maybe some hulking and armoured like Ironjawz or Maggotkin, but I'm not sure. I'm also currently very very tempted by a cavalry heavy Idoneth Deepkin project, because holy smokes those guys are ace and have a fantastic background too. 40k is still a possibility, but I struggle a little to get super excited by either the game, or the armies I think of. Which is a shame because the setting is ace. Might just concentrate on skirmish level stuff for that like Inq28. Who knows. Anyway, you didn't come here for words, you came for pictures of pretty models. Here's a quick look at everything on the go at the moment for January: And here's a closer look at the first model for 2019, the Hound Of The Wild Hunt, after his greenstuff work: Looking forward to painting him, even if I currently have no idea how to do him, or even what he represents in-game More updates soon, al the best to everyone. Knave

“Children learn from their parents. Good or ill, for better or worse, they learn from their parents.” Follies; Everard Hemp of Hammerhal. “Tolerated by our King they may be, but they carry her taint and are no longer truly our kin.” Moralinith of the Darkwood Court ~ Nilith idly carressed the shivering ghul pinned beneath her as she watched her kin slaughter the rest of the fleshborn’s pack. The guttural cries of the feral warmbloods mixed with the hissing laughter and crooning song of Nilith’s fellow treekin, undercut by the wet butcher sounds of meat being torn and the cracking of writhing living wood. She smiled, eyes closed so that she could focus on the song of her kin. Beneath her, the trapped fleshborn spasmed and mewled as sharp talons pierced and flensed flesh gently. “I pity you, warmblood. I really do.” Nilith mused. “Being unable to hear the eversong. To be so cut off from the flow and music of life.” She felt the fleshborn thrash with renewed vigour, its mewling cries fading away into panicked gasps. Nilith opened her eyes to see one of the Crone-touched drift past serenely, blood running from spectral talons. The trapped ghul shuddered, eyes wide in fear and pain as the silent treekin drew closer. Nilith watched her once-kin approach, head cocked aside in almost avian curiosity, long fingered hand gripping the ghul’s face. “Of course, every song must have its silences as well. These are ours, my sweet. Our wonderous awful silences.” The twisted treekin was a hunched mass of blackened wood, hulking and heavy where Nilith and her true kin were elegant and sinuous. Cracked with old wounds, the dark heavy wood churned and roiled with ever-moving thorns and barbs. Its ragged spirit-form hung in tattered sheets like torn webs from the mass of dark wood, one long spectral arm ending in blood-slicked talons, the other in cruelly barbed talons. Others of the Crone-touched still clutched shattered obsidian weapons, their ragged edges clotted with gore. They were all hung with rattling chains of age-stained bone that swung and rattled as they drifted through the tall dead trees of the Darkwood. All wore the same serene face, all were eerily silent. Something that might have been regret flickered fleetingly across Nilith’s cruel beautiful face before her mouth twisted into a mocking smile. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she gazed at her twisted kin. Beneath her, the fleshborn spasmed one last time as talons tightened and clenched, warm blood spurting up over them. “It’s a pity,” Nilith mused. “They used to sing so sweetly.” ~ “She takes them, our dying and wounded.” “Shattered wood, torn spirit. She takes them all.” “With harvested souls, chains of dead men’s bones,” “She binds them and heals them, leaves her mark upon them. “Our once-kin, now her children. Death-marked and Crone-touched.” ~

Lightning quick updates for you today, as I work on sorting out the pics of the completed Crone-touched Treekin, and then work out why the bb code links for said pics aren't working. Technology, hurrah. In between writing, poking the Blackstone Fortress characters, and planning out the last few units for the Court, I've also done a little more work on the Hound of the Wild Hunt. It's now currently at the pre-greenstuff phase, but does need a chunk of that to blend in the treelord parts as well as cover over some fur sections where I had to trim away 40k detail. Also need to sort a base out, but that shouldn't be too hard... Anyway, here's a pic of how it's looking at the moment: For a random spur-of-the-moment conversion inspired by another fine hobbyists take on the idea on Instagram, its turning out pretty damn well. Still no idea what it could actually be in my list, other than maybe a marker for the Gnashing Jaws endless spell, but thats not a major thing - I'm all about the look and feel and story and atmoshere more than anything, and this is just a cool thing to have as part of the project. That's all for now - more to come either tomorrow or Sunday when I post up the Crone-touched. I'm off to try and decide between Maggotkin, Sacrosanct, Tempestus Scions, Custodes or Primaris for my next army project. Wish me luck. Knave.

Afternoon folks - once again I affirm that I aten't dead. Its been a funny old couple of weeks - not a lot of hobby time, some tech issues that have caused delays in getting pics and fluff sorted, and a little loss of hobby-fu which has slowed progress to something lightly above a crawl. But we soldier on. The first unit of Crone-touched Spites are nearly done, just the last few touches to go before the joy of trying to get some decent pics that don't wash out all the shading on them. After that though I think I need a wee little break from the Court, just to refresh my painting time and break the endless cycle of wood and ghosts. Having picked up Blackstone Fortress the other day, I think I'm going to take on a few characters from there as a little refresher and to scratch a minor 40k itch. If you're interested in seeing any of that, please take a look at my Insta page, Knave_Of_Scribes. I might pop a little random project log up on here too as a possibility. In regards to the new Crone-touched themselves, I have got a couple of progress pics to share. The first does a great job of showing the work on the woods while washing out all the shading on the spirit parts, while the last two show the shading on the spirit parts while reducing the woods to a shapeless black mass. Fun times. Still trying to work out the best technique with the new camera and definitely need to fiddle about with lighting and white balances. Here's the pics though: As much as I moan about getting a little fatigued over painting these colours again and again, I am still really happy with how these guys have turned out. Definitely adds something to the project overall, and the Nighthaunt minis are fun to paint. Not so much fun to fill the gaps smoothly, but hey ho. Like I say, few little bits left to do on these tonight, so full painted pics and a little fluff should be coming in the next few days. After them, it'll be a little 40k action, then the next unit of Crone-touched Hunters and probably the Hound, just for fun. @Mordeus - Thanks man, much appreciated @Rhivan - Ha, Thundertree Cavalry is a great name. I'm not sure about his size vs a Demigryph, but that's possibly a good call. I have a feeling that he will just end up as a random little flavour piece for the project, like the Ur-Hesht Duardin, or possibly an Endless Spell marker like the Vasilis Sisters. Hopefully should get the construction all finished up soon. And thanks for the enthusiasm on the Crone-touched - hopefully the pics above are worth the wait. C&C welcome as always gents. Knave