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  1. In which a storm in Ghur drives a traveler off his path and into the sanctuary of a far-flung church of Sigmar... The sound of thunder rattled the windows of the small church. Outside, rain relentlessly lashed its exterior, spattering off the old stones like bullets from a Freeguilder’s musket. Kneeling in prayer at the altar, the priest did his best to shut out the noise of the storm. He muttered his catcheisms as flashes of lightning illuminated the interior of the sacred space. As far as temples to Sigmar went, it was hardly the largest or the most illustrious, but its robust stonework had kept it standing out here in the wilds for long enough, and its simple construction and lack of adornment belied the faith it nurtured among the few who passed through its doors. A loud banging, different from the raging noise of the storm, shook the priest from his faithful reverie. The old man narrowed his eyes as the thumping on the front door of the chapel paused for a moment then continued again. He rose wearily to his feet, trying to ignore the pain in his back and the popping in his knees. In truth, he was probably too old for a role like this, a missionary priest in the hinterlands tending to the few faithful, but where else was he to go? With a grunt, he stood fully and began moving cautiously down the aisle, stalking past the rough-hewn wooden pews to the door. It did not do to rush. Even here, in the areas of Ghur purportedly under the control of Sigmar and his mortal allies, there were untold dangers that abounded on the lonely roads, and not all of them were beasts. The banging continued incessentantly as the priest finally reached the door. He paused for a moment, breathing deeply, and listened, trying to ignore the raging storm without. “Open up! In the name of Sigmar open the door please,” a muffled voice rang through the wood, “I’m fit to drown out here!” The priest paused for a second. It sounded human enough. That was no clear indicator of intention, mind. He hesitated a moment more then shook his head. Was he not a priest? Was this not his duty? To tend to the needy and tired that walked these roads. He could not turn his back on that through simple fear. With a weary sigh, he unlatched the bar that held the heavy door shut and swung it open. The rain and wind surged in, driving the priest back a step. A flash of lightning and once more the rumble of thunder quickly followed, and, as if urged on by the noise, a man tumbled through, sodden and panting. His long leather coat was soaked from the rain and the hat he wore was drooped low, though not enough to hide a narrow, weather-beaten face and a pair of piercing green eyes. “My thanks, father.” The stranger’s voice, while undoubtedly that of a Ghurite, was cultured and lacked the more guttural tone so common among the denizens of this realm. “The storms of Ghur are no laughing matter I must say.” The old priest struggled the door back close, shutting out the wrath of the weather and bringing a modicum of peace back to the chapel. He turned then and cast an appraising eye over the newcomer soaking the rough stone floor of his chapel. The stranger was a tall, handsome man, with noble, dark-skinned features bearing the telltale cast of a native of Ghur. Though his coat and clothes were worn, it was clear, even in the soft candlelight illuminating the chapel, that they were well-made, expensive even. An unadorned sword hilt emerged from the fold of the coat, matching in general the well-made yet functional attire of the man. The priest narrowed his eyes a bit at the sight of the weapon, but he made no move one way or another. In truth, if the storm-tossed stranger had wanted to hurt him, he would’ve been dead the moment he opened the door. Few thieves and murderers in Ghur were subtle creatures. The man looked at him, noticing the appraisal. “I’m sorry father, my apologies. Pieter van Detler, at your service.” The well-dressed man doffed his hat, spilling some water on the floor and he grimaced, “Again, my apologies. In truth, you are a lifesaver this fine night.” The priest smiled. “It is no problem, my friend. What is any church of Sigmar for, if not to provide succor for those in need?” The priest’s voice was thin and weary, though there was an undercurrent of steel there, the will of the faithful, that was impossible to avoid. It was easy for Pieter to imagine the old man, despite his wrinkled appearance and rough-spun robes, extolling the praises of Sigmar in some sermon. “A fine attitude father and one I wished more of us faithful shared. It was a stroke of good fortune that I stumbled upon your chapel. I had not realized there was much call for the word of Sigmar in these parts.” “Oh,” the priest replied, almost bashfully, “it’s about what you would expect these days. But there is a need. The light of Sigmar shines where it will.” He began to move back down the aisle towards the altar as he talked, exposing his back to Pieter for a moment. The old man waited to feel the shock of the blade driven into his back, but it did not come. He smiled. A decent man then, that was lucky. The newcomer cast his eye across the chapel. Simple pews, carved from thick, dark wood, stood in neat rows down the length of the building, leading up to the altar stone at the front. Iron sconces held a plethora of lit candles that brought their dim illumination to the room. Pieter looked at the priest, who had a simple, rugged air that matched the building itself. He was an observant man and he noted, rather offhandedly, that the priest moved with a strength and poise that his old frame hid well. A warrior-priest then. At least once. “What brings you to “these parts” then, my friend? Surely you have a good reason to be abroad on a night like this.” The priest settled into a pew, gazing forward at the altar in front of him. “Of course, father. Of course.” Pieter sidled down the aisle after the priest, still dripping water. With a quiet squelch, he lowered himself into the opposite pew, taking a moment to make the sign of the hammer as he looked at the altar as well. Much like the rest of the temple, it was a relatively rough thing, as would be expected, with a hammer and lightning bolt made of fine wood sitting atop a rough block of stone. Candles were lit around it, casting everything in a soft light. There was an undoubtable rustic charm to it all that Pieter could appreciate, even drenched and cold from the still raging storm. Could do without the shadows though, he thought idly, always better for these temples to be lit, especially on a lonely, weather-beaten road such as this. Still, any port in a storm. He looked over at the wizened features of the chapel’s attendant. “I am on a mission from Sigmar, as it were.” “Is that so, my friend?” The priest said, turning his head to face his guest. “A mighty claim, if ever there was one. It is good to know that I am not the only servant of Sigmar at work in this region.” He chuckled softly. Pieter smiled in return and flipped back one of the folds of his coat, revealing a small gold pin that gleamed in the candle glow. Lightning flashed, briefly casting the priest’s concerned face in stark light. “The Order of the Azyr?” The old man’s voice was hushed. The truly mortal templars of Sigmar were a rare breed and, even though they worked for the God-King, their presence rarely boded well, for it meant great evil was afoot. “Indeed,” said Pieter, almost wearily, “the Order of the Azyr.” He saw the concern in the priest’s face and raised a gloved hand in a calming gesture. “Nothing to worry you, father, or any of the faithful of Sigmar.” “That is good, my friend,” the priest said, though the tension was not completely gone from his voice, “though undoubtedly your purpose in this region is a dark one.” “I’m afraid so,” Pieter said, frowning for the first time since he entered the chapel. Nothing more was forthcoming as he looked back to the altar. Thunder rumbled and lightning flared once more, illuminating the altar. The candles in the church flickered for a second, as if caught in a draft. The priest looked back at the door, but it was firmly sealed. A draft. Unsurprising. As old as it was, the temple itself wasn’t completely weatherproof. He turned to face the templar again. The younger man was still staring at the altar contemplatively. Silence filled the church, broken only by the noise of the storm continuing to batter at the walls. “Father,” said Pieter softly, breaking the relative quiet, “do you ever have doubts?” “Doubts?” “Yes, doubts. In Sigmar. In his purpose, the mission, the ability to actually reunite the disparate peoples of the mortal realms.” “No, I do not,” the priest smiled wanly. “I served in the armies of Sigmar’s faithful, many years ago. I saw the passion there. The hope. I saw the Stormcasts. You cannot doubt Sigmar’s purpose when those warriors fight alongside you.” “That’s fair, father,” Pieter straightened up, “it’s just so much sometimes. How can one man, one god as it were, handle all of this?” He swept his hand out and though he only gestured around the temple, the meaning was clear. “His reach is far, friend. You know that as well as I do. Even here his light shines upon us.” It was a bland turn of phrase, but a common and comforting one. The priest smiled, evidently pleased with his ministrations, and leaned back into the pew. “Indeed,” Pieter replied, “after all, you are here are you not? It’s a bold posting, though perhaps not surprising for a man of your years and experience, Father Reichenbold.” The priest tensed a little, but did not move much. “You know my name?” Reichenbold’s voice was slightly softer now, more cautious. “Father, please,” Pieter shrugged, “did you honestly expect that the Order of the Azyr would send one of its own abroad without letting them know the name of a potential ally in the area? That being said, it was fortune that led me to your door, I was completely lost in that storm.” “Ah well, that does make sense, my friend.” Reichenbold rolled his shoulders and looked up at the altar. “It is a rough place, to be sure, but I find it fulfilling. In many ways, it feels simpler out here, easier to connect with the people than it does back in Azyr.” “I can only imagine,” the witch hunter said cheerfully, “I’ve never stayed overlong in Azyr, though I dearly wished to. Loved the stars.” He sighed before continuing, “Native of Ghur myself, that’s why the Order sent me here for this.” There was another pause, letting the noise of the storm filter in. “And what is this, my friend?” the priest inquired after a moment. The younger man said nothing for a moment, fixing his gaze on the altar. “Murders, father, foul murders. A large number too,” Pieter’s voice was free of any levity, cold and severe. Gone was the more salubrious behavior of only a few moments before. “Travelers missing and some pilgrims gone. They’re what got the eye of my superiors. Protecting Sigmar’s faithful is always our priority, even out here.” “I’ve heard of no murders?” There was genuine concern in Reichenbold’s voice. “Ah, that is the problem. They’ve been quiet, subtle, extremely dangerous. We would never have known were it not for the fact that one of those pilgrims happened to be an old friend of the Grand Theogonist herself. When she failed to arrive in the Azyr two weeks ago, higher powers took notice. I’ve been on the hunt ever since.” “Terrible,” Reichenbold said, “It’s hard enough out here without some foul cult at work. If I had only known, I would’ve tried to do something.” “A cult, yes,” the templar said absentmindedly. He shook his head and continued, “Not surprising you would want to help, father, considering your service. One of the heroes of Mountenbach Ford, are you not? The Astral Templars themselves honored your fellows and you after that battle, if I don’t miss my mark. High praise, the Stormcast give it to us regular mortals so rarely.” “That was a long time ago, my friend.” “A long time ago, but I bet you could still swing your hammer with skill if need be? Pity that these murderers only have to face me, rather than your wrath, even in your retirement.” The priest chuckled. “You’re too kind. Though I could still swing the hammer, I will admit. A necessary skill in Ghur, even in... retirement.” “Of course,” said Peiter, sitting up. “Tell me father, what were they like? The Astral Templars, that is. I’ve not had the chance to meet one yet.” The priest nodded. His eyes lit up and he gestured excitedly with his hands. “Amazing, my friend. Stunning. The God-King’s will made manifest, clad in gold and full of the storm’s fury.” The thunder rumbled outside and lightning flared again, as if in acknowledgement. Pieter whistled, easing back in the pew and staring up at the ceiling of the chapel. “Imagine that.” The two men sat in silence for a while longer, Pieter looking up at the rafters, Father Reichenbold looking ahead at the altar, occasionally casting furtive glances at his guest. “The Astral Templars are clad in purple.” The witch hunter’s voice was cold and severe again. The priest grunted in response. “Ah, of course they are. My old mind forgets these things. They were indeed giants in purple armor.” “And the battle where they honored Father Reichenbold was Turtleshell Ford. There is no such place as Mountenbach.” The priest was silent. Thunder rumbled. “Are you going to lie about forgetting that too?” “Father Reichenbold” rose to his feet, his knees popping, though the look on his face betrayed little pain. Pieter rose as well and the two men faced one another in front of the altar. “No, I think there’s no point in that petty indulgence.” Gone was any genial tone in the priest’s voice, replaced instead by that underlying steel. “Good. I dislike pretences, despite my profession.” Pieter’s hand drifted to his sword. “And where is the real Father Reichenbold?” The priest chuckled darkly, shifting his hands within the flow of his rough robes. “Dead for months. I drained his body of blood and buried him behind the chapel.” The priest gestured lazily past the altar. “If it makes you feel any better, he was a fighter to the end. I appreciated that. So did my god.” “Did you honestly think no one would notice?” Pieter’s voice was calm, his hand now firmly upon the hilt of his sword, though he did not draw the blade. “Honestly?” The priest responded, “I really did not. Your Sigmar is weak, templar. He betrayed these realms, cast them aside and sealed himself away and let the darkness take us all. Even now, even with his vaunted heroes and his “devoted” servants, his light falters. It has no place here, that much is for sure.” “And yet here I am, a Ghurite, fighting for Sigmar.” “You are twice a traitor then,” the old man shrieked, “to serve the coward-god that betrayed your people!” “Sigmar saved my people, murderer.” The priest snorted derisively. “Saved them? By tying them to his yoke? Placing them under the lash of his pampered Azyrites that rode out the hell of Chaos invasions in luxury? Some salvation. This is what you sacrifice your heritage for?” Pieter said nothing and the priest continued, filling the void with words, his voice becoming more and more zealous with each venomous utterance. “I serve an older master, one that did not abandon these lands like your foolish God-King. One that nurtured the people of these hinterlands, protected them from the foulness that threatened them all. What has Sigmar done here that equals that? Where was he, when the servants of the Dark Gods were baying at our borders? Your Father Reichenbold, the hero! The fool more like! He thought he could push Sigmar on us, as your priests always do. He was wrong. His blood was like wine on the lips of Onholt. Each of those travelers died screaming. All of their blood nourished my god, renewed our pacts, guaranteed our continued safety from all that would threaten us.” The priest smiled, drawing a wicked looking sickle with a jagged edge from the folds of his robes. There was madness in his eyes as he stalked towards the witch-hunter. “And the best part, lackey of the coward-god? Onholt is always thirsty.” The priest lunged forward with a yell, swinging his sickle downwards. Pieter’s thin blade, thrice blessed by the Grand Theogonist herself, emerged from its scabbard in the blink of an eye to intercept the vicious weapon. The templar lunged into a riposte, but, as he suspected, the priest was far from the frail old man he appeared, rolling backwards on his heels and smacking the thrust aside. His robes fluttered and flapped like the wings of some ragged vulture as he struck again and again, and Pieter was hard-pressed to knock the brutal slashes askew. As the priest’s robes fluttered, Pieter glimpsed the sinuous tattoos that decorated the old man’s arms, drawn in what appeared to be long-dried blood. Undoubtedly they were responsible for the unnatural strength and vigor the fanatic displayed. It was supernatural, the unsavory gift of whatever petty godling had chosen this man as its champion. In the abstract part of his mind that was not immediately occupied with fighting for his life, Pieter pitied Father Reichenbold for having to face an opponent like this. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled once more as the two figures danced back and forth in front of the altar. Their blades skittered and clanged off one another, each man showing superb skill in the duel, but it was the priest of Onholt that seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Each strong blow drove Pieter back towards the wall of the small chapel, rattling the steel of his sword and threatening the sturdiness of his guard. Every couple of strikes, the sickle’s jagged blade nicked the witch hunter’s body, drawing small amounts of blood, sapping his strength with each slice. “I will offer up every last drop of your blood to Onholt,” the old man shrieked, cutting low with his sickle and forcing Pieter back once more, “He will drink it all!” Like a great cat of the Ghurlands, the priest pounced forward, throwing himself bodily into the templar, his weapon hooking the blessed blade out of the way. Pieter stumbled backwards and fell, cracking his head against the wall even as the sickle opened up a wide gash across his front. On his back, groggy from the blow, the templar struggled as a wrinkled foot in a grimy sandal slammed down on his chest to pin him in place with that same, unnatural strength. He grunted as the priest pressed down on the wound. “You were foolish to come here alone, lackey of the coward-god,” the old man drew back his sickle for a killing blow, and a flash of lightning backlit his hideous silhouette in Pieter’s eyes. Defiant despite the pounding in his head, the witch hunter spat his words up at the fanatic poised to execute him. “The servants of Sigmar are never alone, heretic.” There was a loud snap crack followed by a flash, like that of lightning, and the tang of ozone filled the room. The priest of Onholt wheezed violently as a bolt of light plucked him off his feet and sent his wizened form smashing with bone-crushing force into the stonework of the temple’s back wall. With the pressure lifted off his chest, Pieter rose unsteadily to his feet, just in time to see the large form sliding out of the shadows by the door of the chapel. The mighty figure cast back his cloak of woven black beast-fur as he strolled down the aisle towards the witch hunter, revealing the purple armor of the Astral Templars underneath. “Brother Tarkus, I was beginning to wonder if you were here at all.” Pieter said, touching the swelling bump on the back of his head gingerly before bending to retrieve his sword. “That took you long enough.” “I could say the same to you, van Detler.” Tarkus’ voice echoed from within his helm, and though it was well-spoken, it bound the roiling power of the storm in its words. “I had to be sure,” the witch hunter said, walking over to the corpse of the zealot. A look of surprise was still plastered on the old man’s face, though the appearance of shock hardly detracted from the spectacle of the dinner plate sized hole in the fanatic’s chest where the bolt had impacted. “Again,” Tarkus rumbled, “I could say the same.” Pieter looked up at the Stormcast, struggling to keep the vague sense of annoyance off his face. “You almost sound disappointed, Brother Tarkus.” “I am, van Detler. I expected him to be a demon. Or a magus of the Dark Gods at the very least.” “No,” Pieter said, kneeling down next to the corpse and lifting up an icon on a chain around the man’s neck. It depicted a sickle and a drop of liquid, undoubtedly blood. “It is sad to say, my noble hunter, but the evils of the mortal realms are just as likely to be rooted in mere men as they are to be the work of the Dark Gods and their ilk.” “But he was ensorcelled in some way?” “Oh yes,” Pieter said, holding the icon up to the light and examining it closer. Crude characters in the tongue of Ghur decorated its outside. “A follower of Onholt, an old god obsessed with sacrifice and blood. Perfect for Ghur, in so many ways. The Order thought his followers had long died out, but clearly that is not the case.” The witch hunter stashed the icon away inside a pouch at his waist. “They call Onholt “The Drinker”. Pleasant title, seems fitting.” “Not the Blood God then?” Tarkus seemed doubtful. “No, not the Blood God. Similar perhaps, but not the same.” The Stormcast shrugged slightly in response. “One evil seems much like another.” “If only that were the case, it would make the Order’s job much easier.” The cuts Pieter had suffered were not deep, even the one on his chest, but he winced in pain as he stood. “I’ll need to investigate his quarters. There may be more of his cult hereabouts, helping him commit his sacrifices. We might also give Father Reichenbold a proper funeral, if we can find him. He deserves far better than a shallow grave in the hinterlands of this realm. Probably need to tend to my wounds too, we don’t all bleed starlight.” The man began to move towards the door at the side of the chapel leading to the priest’s personal abode. “I don’t bleed starlight,” Tarkus said almost petulantly, calmly reloading the crossbow in his hands as he looked down at the crumpled form of the zealot. “Was it true what you said, van Detler? About the doubts?” Pieter paused and turned back to the Stormcast. The armored giant, veritably charged with the power of the Azyr now that his presence was revealed, was intimidating, especially when it came to questions of faith. Wild as they were, the Astral Templars were no less devoted to the God-King than any other Stormhost. “Yes, Brother Tarkus. It is true,” Pieter sighed, “Was that what stayed your hand for so long?” “No,” the Stormcast replied firmly, “I told you I was waiting.” “It is natural for men to doubt, Brother Tarkus. To fear. I feel that this man,” he gestured towards the ragged form of the zealot, “was driven towards Onholt by his doubts more than anything else. The difference between him and I though, is that my doubts give me purpose. For what is doubt if not the trappings of hope? One does not exist without the other. I believe in Sigmar, in his will, and his mission. That I worry it can be achieved at times only drives me harder to assure that those doubts do not become a reality.” The Stormcast said nothing, but nodded slowly. Thunder rumbled again outside, rattling the church’s windows, as if in affirmation of the witch hunter’s statement. “Now, I think that’s enough matters of the spirit for the day, don’t you?” Pieter said, continuing his walk towards the quarter’s door. “We have work to do.”
  2. *OLDER PHOTOS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, NEW ONE ARE ON PAGE 2* " Fire and wind come from the sky, from the gods of the sky. But Crom is your god, Crom and he lives in the earth. Once, giants lived in the Earth, Conan. And in the darkness of chaos, they fooled Crom, and they took from him the enigma of steel. Crom was angered. And the Earth shook. Fire and wind struck down these giants, and they threw their bodies into the waters, but in their rage, the gods forgot the secret of steel and left it on the battlefield. We who found it are just men. Not gods. Not giants. Just men. The secret of steel has always carried with it a mystery. You must learn its riddle, Conan. You must learn its discipline. For no one - no one in this world can you trust. Not men, not women, not beasts. [Points to sword]This you can trust." And sooooooo another blog It's been a long time since I want to convert my own free people and now I 've got the right inspiration! I want a classic of fantasy the good barbarian! Here are the first 3 member ( I'm thinking when I ve finished the bases conversion for every model to add fur boots to all of them) Comments and critics welcomed.
  3. Hello, I am new to this forum and was just wondering what I could do with my Reiksguard horseback knights in AoS. I have about 20 of them and am a very much dedicated Free Peoples player, but I am struggling to find a use or 'count-as' ruleset for them. Any advice since Cities Of Sigmar is just around the corner? To make things easier, this is what I currently own in CoS: General on Griffin General on foot 40 Freeguild guard 20 Handgunners 30 xbows Helstorm rocket battery 10 Greatswords 3 Demis Luminark of Hysh Battlemage Bunch of SCE (although I don't prefer mixing them too much) So.. How could I incorporate the knights here?
  4. I’m John Roy, I’m a standup comic (Conan, Tonight Show, @midnight, Harmontown) and me and comedian Andrew Dewitt (Kimmel, Showtime, TV Land) have a new podcast where we talk about our favorite hobby, Warhammer: Age of Sigmar. Check out Legends of The Painty Men here: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/legends-of-the-painty-men/id1401094339
  5. Jyhnu

    Serindë_Spellweaver.jpg

    My Wanderers Spellweaver painted a few years ago (2014 or so). Proud warden of my Wood Elves force. I really enjoyed working on transparency with this model.

    © Hans LONE SANG

  6. Event Title: Firestorm Fours Event Author: Tombking6898 Calendar: Events UK Event Date: 10/06/2018 09:00 AM to 10/07/2018 12:00 AM Firestorm Fours is a casual gaming event where individual players are grouped into teams based on their army’s Grand alliance. These alliance teams will go head to head against the other Grand alliance teams to battle it out for supremacy. Each round Grand alliance teams will strategically nominate individual players via a system of challenges in order to create the pairings for that round. Results will then be collected from each of the individual games to give the Grand alliance an overall round score. The event will run over two days, with players battling over a total of 5 games. Each Mission will be uniquely themed to match the waring alliances. In addition there will be Alliance events requiring a team decision to be made at the end of each round which may help or hinder both you and your team mates. Tickets are available in limited numbers for each Grand Alliance. Only in the event that all tickets sell out will additional sets of tickets for each alliance be made available. The Rules pack for the event can be downloaded here: https://www.thebattlefields.co.uk/uploads/downloads/Rules%20Packs/AOS-EventPack.pdf Tickets are sold individually, however if you wish to enter as an already formed team, email the names of your team members to andy@firestormgames.co.uk Firestorm Fours
  7. Tombking6898

    Firestorm Fours

    until
    Firestorm Fours is a casual gaming event where individual players are grouped into teams based on their army’s Grand alliance. These alliance teams will go head to head against the other Grand alliance teams to battle it out for supremacy. Each round Grand alliance teams will strategically nominate individual players via a system of challenges in order to create the pairings for that round. Results will then be collected from each of the individual games to give the Grand alliance an overall round score. The event will run over two days, with players battling over a total of 5 games. Each Mission will be uniquely themed to match the waring alliances. In addition there will be Alliance events requiring a team decision to be made at the end of each round which may help or hinder both you and your team mates. Tickets are available in limited numbers for each Grand Alliance. Only in the event that all tickets sell out will additional sets of tickets for each alliance be made available. The Rules pack for the event can be downloaded here: https://www.thebattlefields.co.uk/uploads/downloads/Rules%20Packs/AOS-EventPack.pdf Tickets are sold individually, however if you wish to enter as an already formed team, email the names of your team members to andy@firestormgames.co.uk
  8. In the Idoneth Deepkin reveal video, it was confirmed that Teclis was narativing. He was talking partly about the destruction of the world and it could be implied that the pain from the Deepkin failure and witnessing the destruction of the World-That-Was caused him to cast them away. Does anyone else think if the characters remember the World-That-Was and how it could affect future lore? I was wondering if Alarielle can remember (or would remember) being the Everqueen of the High Elves or if Teclis and Tyrion remember the invasions of Ulthuan that the now Malerion lead with Morathi. This could change how the characters view each other, especially among the aelves whom know each other very well. I would expect, though they are in the same alliance, if they still look over their back to see what the other is plotting.
  9. Hello, we are a spanish players youtube channel, and want to support this invention: https://igg.me/at/adaptem They are adapters which you don't must to change your original bases to new round ones. We have made a table with the exact size and adapter for each Games Workshop model until now: https://zonamuertagames.wordpress.com/conversion-de-peanas/ We wish to help you, and please, support the project: we want our adapters too!
  10. Hi so I am looking to get into age of sigmar with a 1k point army so I can play with my brother but I don't have a large amount of money that I can spend on the game. Something that I've noticed by looking at the game workshop website is that some units have a higher or lower points to cost ratio then others. By this I mean that a group of 6 gryph-hounds with 240 points only costs $30. While some heroes for the same amount of points or less can cost more than twice as much. The 1000 point Ironjawz army I had picked out would run me $400. Meanwhile 1000 points worth of gryph-hounds is only $120! I know people will say that I should pick my units depending on how much I like them, their competitiveness etc. but cost is definitely an important factor for me. So other from the box sets (some of them over 600 points for $100) what other units can I get that are cheap?? Something I was also considering is buying used models, is there any forum or website or anything where everybody congregates for selling their used models?? Maybe some people out there who have the same budget problems as me could let me know how I could get into the game with a full 1000 point army with my current budget of around $150. Thank you so much guys I really appreciate it!
  11. I've been working on my Stormcast host on and off now for nearly a year, with the majority of what I'd call "bulk" units completed or in the final stages of painting (5 more vanguard hunters are finished but not pictured, I have 15 protectors and 5 decimators along with two Concussor conversions to paint) which frees me up to do the most enjoyable part of the army. Characterful Conversions! I've just about finished the modelling on my Lord Commander for the host (Unique model, first of the host, general) who is in dire need of a name so suggestions are more than welcome. But most of all I'd love suggestions of characters, artillery pieces or monsters that people would like to see converted up that fit the theme of stormcast so that I can add them to the host! C&C Welcome as always!
  12. Apologies if this is in the wrong place. I've been working on the concept of Lord Commanders for Stormcast Hosts and would love feedback. All great armies throughout the Realms start with but a single soldier and a mission, The Lord Commander embodies both these traits for their host. They are the first chosen by Sigmar when a new host is to be formed, a champion beyond compare from the souls their divine god has plucked from the brink of death. Many Commanders are formed from Legendary kings or Generals, but others still are rumoured to come from the Broken World in a time before myths were formed, if true such beings could predate the worlds known to man and have walked the earth in days that Gods walked as mortal men. When sigmar comes to form a host its purpose is already clear in his mind, some are forged to guard areas of great importance to his grand alliance, others set out to conquer a specific foe that harries his forces on their advance. Whatever purpose is chosen the Lord Commander is infused with Sigmars bellowing voice as the order is carved into both their armour and souls. Should a Lord Commander survive the reforging process their Armour and Weaponry come not from the Duardin forges that the rest of the host are armed with, instead ancient vaults buried deep within Azyr uncoil to present relics of Myth to these embodiences of Sigmars will. Many relics form the basis of legends throughout the realms, the Phoenix Blade of Aqysh that can blast a mortal man to ash, the Celestial Cloak of Hysh that allows its bearer to tread amongst the stars, such is the power of these relics that they drain the very soul of their bearer, only those of divine will can resist their pull. Armed and Armoured the Lord Commanders stand at the forefront of their hosts, second only to the Lord Sigmar himself in authority it is they who spur on their soldiers in the name of their god. Champion, General, Steward and Judge these men and women define their Hosts (for better or worse). Ralyn'Tor Lord Commander of the Anvils is a Grim and Cold figure, palapable waves of terror ripple in his very prescence, their air crackles with electricity barely contained by his rune laden armour, hidden always behind an exquisitely carved mask his eyes burn with the embers of the forge that has yet to cool off. UNIQUE: No Army may contain more than one Lord Commander, but a single commander exists per host. If the Lord Commander is fielded he must be your general. A Lord Commander may not select relics or command traits and instead has the following abilities. Ability: Shatterfang Blade: Each Lord Commander possesses a blade unique to the host from which they were made, unique and deadly relics forged long ago. Such is the power of these blades that lesser men find their souls torn asunder should they attempt to harness the power. For every model this blade kills in MELEE inflict one additional automatic hit on the unit as their slain comerade detonates into shards of super heated sigmarite. Warcouncil: The Lord Commander is a consumate general capable of marshalling his officers to perform their roles with optimal efficiency. If this model is your general all friendly STORMCAST heroes may use their command abilities when within 12 inches of this model in the hero phase. Consumate Duelist: The Lord Commander is a duelist nigh beyond compare, seeking out the enemy heroes to do battle that they might crush the enemy hosts with but a single kill. Whilst directing their MELEE attack against this model enemy heroes must subtract 1 from all to hit rolls. The Crash of Thunder: The Lord Commander leads his forces in an unstoppable tide of Stormcast, crashing through enemy lines as though they were nothing. In a turn in which this model charges, all friendly STORMCAST models who have charged that turn may make an additional attack with any Melee weapons. Command Ability: Storm Infused: The first of the host still crackle with the power of Sigmars storm, channelling this energy into their brethern around them to boost them to even greater heroic feats. In your hero phase select a friendly STORMCAST unit within 6 inches, that unit may then MOVE, SHOOT or ATTACK IN CLOSE COMBAT as though it were theappropriate phase. This does not prevent the unit from acting as normal later in the turn.
  13. A few months ago I've started collecting and playing Age of Sigmar with my brother and my girlfriend. I wanted to pick up Stormcast Eternals because I really like the aesthetics of this army. I got the Stormcast Eternals half of the Age of Sigmar starter set, and from that point I bought Knight Venator, Celestant Prime, Judicators, Start Collecting! Stormcast Eternals, Lord Castellant and Paladin Protectors. I really liked the Pitched Battle mode, so I've set my eyes on the tournament scene and would like to slowly get into playing in the torunaments. At the moment my 2000 point roster looks like this: I checked the rules regarding the Hammerstrike Force, and as far as I can see you have to set the Paladins within 6" of the Prosecutors. If my logic is right then setting up Prosecutors and the Lord Celestant in the Celestial Realm (due to Scions of the Storm), placing them within 9" of the enemy and then deploying the Paladins within 3" of a priority target as long as they are within 6" of the prosecutors should work, right? I was wondering about the viability of the list in terms of tournament play. In my mind that would work, but then again I played only 1000-1500 point games against Sylvaneth and Blades of Khorne so far. What would be the next steps for expanding my collection of miniatures and getting more versatility in Pitched Battles? I was thinking about getting Fulminators with a Heraldor, or maybe a Stardrake.
  14. Hey, I am selling 12 metal swordmasters of hoeth. full command. standard bearer doesnt come with his flag. Auction is finishing tonight on ebay. Ebay Link Imgur Link Happy Bidding!
  15. Event Title: Rise To Glory Event Author: Barnsleymg Calendar: Events UK Event Date: 05/21/2017 09:30 AM to 05/21/2017 05:00 PM Rise To Glory 21st May 1 Day event 9.30-5 2,000pts Generals Handbook matched play 16 places Tournament points 20pts Major victory 13pts Minor Victory 10pts Draw 7pts Minor Loss 0pts Major Loss 5pts painted army (the models must be base coated and washed in the right areas and this is judge’s discretion on what this is) and Based 5pts if you are nominated for best Painted 5 pts for the Best painted army winner Best painted Army We will pick up to 6 armies that will be given a nomination and these players will be asked to set their armies up over lunch so each player can vote for the one they deem best painted army. Best Army Award This is an award that give us as TOs to be able to reward effort and skill for whatever we deem fit. This can be a really nice army that someone has themed and put together, it could be progression of someone’s hobby we have seen between events. House Rules · The dice rolls for deciding who goes first/second each Battle round cannot be modified in any way · All measurements should be made from the models base · Models which cannot be attacked or targeted cannot hold or contest objectives. · A natural roll of a 6 to hit and/or to wound is always considered a success. For clarity, were a modifier to make it normally impossible to wound, a 6 would always wound but it would not trigger any special ability associated with it (a Bloodletter’s mortal wound on a 6 for instance) · Persisting effects/spells with the same name do not stack, but spells with different names but same effects do. · All terrain should be rolled for before picking sides Rise To Glory
  16. Hey everyone, looks like a great community here! I'm brand new to AOS, and looking for easygoing, Vancouver-based players to put up with dumb questions about the game, play some narrative stuff, and have fun. Until then, TGA looks like a wonderful resource. Alex
  17. Ahoy! Long time 40k player and day 1 Age Of Sigmar convert finally ready to commit. So I guess I should explain a bit better right? Okay well since picking up a Gorkamorka WD issue when about 8 years old ive been hooked with the Warhammer Lore both fantasy and 40k. Although a fan of the Lizardmen I admittedly never made the jump to collecting fantasy, as someone who forgets rules and is a causal player the rules always scared me off and I stuck to 40k like friends of mine. Now as mentioned above im rubbish with rules and 40k was more of a build and paint project with me mainly fighting between Night Lords (I blame ADB for them winning most of the time) and Grey Knights between collecting at one point every force at least once. So of course the End Times happens and working for a 3rd party retailer I kept up with the plot and then it happened 4 page ruleset and free rules! So I put together a Lizardman formation and forced a friend to fight me with some Orcs right off the bat, of course I loved it but he couldn't break his 40k roots. Some time went passed and we got new miniatures and lore and then a colleague/friend started up a monthly club and suggested AoS. So I decided I wanted to grab the new poster boys and after looking at alternative paint schemes painted up a 50 wound Stormcast Eternal Hallowed Knights force. Now although fun, easy paint and a strong army they just didn't click with me so I recycled these to fund my next force. I planned this one a little more and while also still juggling 40k projects decided Flesh Eater Courts and enjoyed the new fluff and of course a Giant Undead bat, but these guys fell at the first hurdle building and painting them just wasn't something I enjoyed (each to their own). So once again recycled to fund further projects. So some time passed and I decided Undead were fun and for a tag team tournament coming up I built up a GA:Death Necromancer led force with Skeletons and Spirits. Now they won it for our team and although fun to paint and play once again I just didn't feel a connection that I had with 40k armies before. So rather than sell these I put them aside so we had a spare 50 wound force incase anyone wanted to try a game and so I had them until I decided what to do next. Well some time passed ive realised bar 1 Killteam game ive not played 40k since AoS came out so I decided to clear out my 40k bits (up to last week selling my Night Lords down to keeping a small SW:A Kill Team). That's when it happened I locked eyes with a leaked picture of the Kharadron Overlords and fell in love and I have to say now ive created a paint scheme (see Gyrocopter picture below taken before I finished but scheme is there) and just an hour ago glued together my Admiral im hooked and finally ready to jump on a forum and chat about the Mortal realms. Hopefully ill be posting many pictures of my Tic-Tok Mercenary group of Kharadron Overlords but either way I look forward to posting here! - Von Runestorm
  18. Barnsleymg

    Rise To Glory

    until
    Rise To Glory 21st May 1 Day event 9.30-5 2,000pts Generals Handbook matched play 16 places Tournament points 20pts Major victory 13pts Minor Victory 10pts Draw 7pts Minor Loss 0pts Major Loss 5pts painted army (the models must be base coated and washed in the right areas and this is judge’s discretion on what this is) and Based 5pts if you are nominated for best Painted 5 pts for the Best painted army winner Best painted Army We will pick up to 6 armies that will be given a nomination and these players will be asked to set their armies up over lunch so each player can vote for the one they deem best painted army. Best Army Award This is an award that give us as TOs to be able to reward effort and skill for whatever we deem fit. This can be a really nice army that someone has themed and put together, it could be progression of someone’s hobby we have seen between events. House Rules · The dice rolls for deciding who goes first/second each Battle round cannot be modified in any way · All measurements should be made from the models base · Models which cannot be attacked or targeted cannot hold or contest objectives. · A natural roll of a 6 to hit and/or to wound is always considered a success. For clarity, were a modifier to make it normally impossible to wound, a 6 would always wound but it would not trigger any special ability associated with it (a Bloodletter’s mortal wound on a 6 for instance) · Persisting effects/spells with the same name do not stack, but spells with different names but same effects do. · All terrain should be rolled for before picking sides
  19. Hello. I am a new member to the group as I am looking for other people who share my interest in Age of Sigmar. The comic shop where I go and play warhammer play mostly 40K so it's hard to find people for the Sigmar side of it. I am trying to run campaigns at the store to get people interested in playing Sigmar but I have a question about the mortal realms. The rules say you can play in any one of the realms but where do I find information on the advantages and disadvantages with your models by playing in the different realms? I can't seem to find anything in the books. I have been building and painting my chaos daemons mostly and now that my army is complete. I want to delve into playing good games so I can learn how to master my models. I like Warhammer and hope to make friends within the community. Thank you. Jenn
  20. This is the same story posted earlier but I can not seem to edit mistakes I caught on subsequent proof readings. So here is an edited version with some grammer and readability improvements. Alarik stepped out of the realmgate onto the soil of Ulgu, his retinue close in step. Having so recently been among the purifying light of Sigmar's kingdom, the sudden and complete blackness of Ulgu blinded him. His eyes desperately grasping for light as they struggled to adjust. After a few moments he could make out some blurry shapes within the small halo of ghostly violet light emitted by the realmgate. The blasphemous realm immediately wore on his nerves. The shimmering white and gold armor of Alarik's host had so often seemed to him a radiant manifestation of Sigmar's fury. In the deep darkness of the shadows realm however the glittering armor and shimmer of storm infused magic of Alarik's host seemed little more than a dim candle in a vast, uncaring night. As Lord Relictor Balhoth stepped from the realmgate Alarik's eyes had adjusted as much as could be expected in such a place, and he peered back to meet Balhoth's gaze. Balhoth looked somehow more powerful in this domain. In a realm that so drained Alarik with its hidden and wretched nature, Balhoth seemed to emit an aura of hidden arcane potency just out of tangible sight. "How fitting for a dark and brooding land to welcome such a dark and brooding man, how dramatic." Alarik scoffed to himself. Despite Alarik's distrust and subtle mockery of the macabre nature of the Relictor, Alarik could not deny the power of his presence. Like most Lord Relictors, Balhoth was adorned from head to toe in dark Sigmarite armor, adorned with bones and sinister looking charms. Grandiosely segmented into gold trimmed plates forming a formidable aegis around each limb of Balhoth's towering figure. The suit of armor was crowned with a menacing skull masked helm the expression of which seemed to both embrace and mock the threat of death. For a moment Balhoth's pale, skull visaged helmet appeared to glow with an ethereal light which defied reason in so dark a place. In contrast to the ghostly countenance of his helmet The Lord Relictor's black armor plates seemed darker and reason was betrayed once more by Balhoth's appearance as tendrils of black mist appeared to leap chaotically around Balhoth's silhouette. A disturbing aura of death and night that licked hungrily at the darkness that enveloped the Stormcasts. The dark and deathly aspect Balthoth had been possessed by frightened Alarik. A feeling he had all but forgotten since his reforging. Alarik feared he was about to witness the betrayal of the Lord Relictor at the hands of some terrible gift of power and madness granted by Ulgu itself. Alarik squinted, focusing more intently on the Lord Relictor. Alarik hoped to will Balhoth into a less blasphemous form of existence. As equal measures of fear and anger grew in Alarik, his attempt to focus on Balhoth and center his thoughts seemed to work. To Alarik's surprise and relief the shadow tendrils and ghostly glow of Balhoth's mask began to disappear and Alarik immediately began to distrust his senses in this world. "What a wretched place." Alarik cursed aloud, still facing Balhoth. "I met no resistance coming through the gate Balhoth and it worries me." "I expect frontal assault is not the way of this realms denizens." Balhoth offered in reply."I know little of this realm Alarik but I fear we may miss the brutal honesty found in the frontal assault of a Khornate horde." Balhoth continued grim but resolute."None have returned from this realm, it is unlikely our rescue mission will end in anything but death." Alarik frowned inside his helmet, glad the rigid facial features forged in the mask of the his helm hid his repulsion at the sad truth of Balhoth's declaration. Why did he ever hope to find comfort in the words of the Lord Relictor? Balhoth was seldom wrong but even more seldom was the Lord Relictor comforting. Cold, tactical truth was his fluency. A fact which Alarik almost hated as much as he valued it. "Pleasant thought Balhoth." Alarik returned." If I get frightened I will dream of the bloodied platues of Aqshy." Despite the forced levity in his words Alarik knew the chances of finding Halvir were slim but why had the God King created him if not to venture into such places and bring hope to those in opposition to the dark pantheon. He knew it was not a mission forged in the cold, calculating reason that so endeared his Lord Relictor to him, but a need to find his lost comrade that burned within Alarik. Some memory from a forgotten life, just out of reach that drove Alarik's desperate foray into Ulgu. Ulgu hid it's secrets as if sentient and maniacal, adding the fate of any who dared tread its paths to its many secrets. As Balhoth had so poignantly stated, those that had entered Ulgu had never returned from its insidious clutches, but his brother in war would not be left alone in this cursed place to die or worse. The Stormcasts had arrived. Just as Lord Grufflz told Rulk they would. "He is so smart smart he is." Rulk thought to himself. The skaven commander known as Grufflz had seen one of the stormcasts dragged off into the darkness by a dark figure the skaven forces only knew as the broody one. Grufflz did not know much about the broody one but he had been seen sporadically in the region lately. Up to no good Grufflz was sure of, which made Grufflz respect the broody one. it takes brains to scheme and made things so much more interesting. Rulk drooled and snorted in excitement , whispering to himself. "Storm bullies so dumb dumb getting caught by broody one. Lord Grufflz will skewer them. So glorious." Rulk could see the Stormcasts adjusting to the darkness. They seemed so slow to move and adapt to him. He wondered how they ever had success fighting when they moved so slow. Remembering his duties Rulk let out a low hiss to signal to his troops nearby it was time to draw the Stormcasts into the darkness. To prepare for Sigmar's intrusion on Lord Grufflz bounty. The broody one after all was know to attract warpstone some how. Expecting the Stormcast to arrive in search for their kidnapped companion Lord Grufflz had cunning had his force hedge up the foliage in some areas. The terrain was chocked with this wooden vines. With some manipulation by Rulks men the only clearing in the vines would decide the path of the Stormcasts without them knowing it. "It needs to look natural, and smooth smooth. We need to give them a path without them knowing we doing it." Grufflz had explained. The next part of the plan was Rulk's favorite. He grew giddy as he remember Grufflz commands. "Remembers cunning ones, stay low low and hidden. Push their feet so softly. Bring them to us. If they wander nudge them here and nudge them there. The are large and blunt, they will not notice you." Such an exciting command to sneakily force the path of the Stormbrutes. Nudge them ever so slightly off course without them noticing. Rulk reveled " So much fun can be had in the dark. So much tricky tricks." Rulk wondered to himself why Lord Grufflz had passed on participating in such an exciting sneaky challenge."Other things he need be doing. So smart, so important." Rulk of course did not realize he had been sent on what could likely turn out to be a suicide mission. If Alaraki did notice the skaven skulking in the darkness he would end them as he sought to end all followers of the chaos pantheon. To Be Continued..... (I will update a narrative version of the battle report when I get a chance)
  21. Here is the latest entry leading up to our first game. The Pass of Hidden Hands Alarik stepped out of the realmgate onto the soil of Ulgu, his retinue close in step. Having so recently been among the purifying light of Sigmar's kingdom, the sudden and complete blackness of Ulgu blinded him. His eyes desperately grasping for light as they struggled to adjust. After a few moments he could make out some blurry shapes within the small halo of ghostly violet light emitted by the realmgate. The blasphemous realm immediately wore on his nerves. The shimmering white and gold armor of Alarik's host had so often seemed to him a radiant manifestation of Sigmar's fury. In the deep, uncaring darkness of the shadows realm however the glittering armor and shimmer of storm infused magic of Alarik's host seemed little more than a dim candle in a vast, uncaring night. As Lord Relictor Balhoth stepped from the realmgate Alarik's eyes had adjusted as much as could be expected in such a place, and he peered back to meet Balhoth's gaze. Balhoth looked somehow more powerful in this domain. In a realm that so drained Alarik with its hidden and wretched nature, Balhoth seemed to emit an aura of hidden arcane potency just out of tangible sight. "How fitting for a dark and brooding land to welcome such a dark and brooding man, how dramatic." Alarik scoffed to himself. Despite Alarik's distrust and subtle mockery of the macabre nature of the Relictor, Alarik could not deny the power of his presence. Like most Lord Relictors, Balhoth was adorned from head to toe in dark Sigmarite armor. Grandiosely segmented into gold trimmed plates forming around each limb of Balhoth's towering figure. The suit of armor crowned with a menacing skull masked helm. For and moment Balhoth's pale, skull visaged helmet appeared to glow with a ghostly light which defied reason in so dark a place. The Lord Relictor's black armor plates seemed to come to life, licking at the air in ethereal, black tendrils. Disturbed by the dark and deathly aura around Balthoth Alarik squinted,focusing more intently on the Lord Relictor, hoping to reason the sight out of existence. Doing so seemd to work and caused the shadow tendrils and ghostly glow of Balhoth's mask to disappear and Alarik immediately began to distrust his senses in this world. "What a wretched place." Alarik cursed aloud, still facing Balhoth. "I met no resistance coming through the gate Balhoth and it worries me." "I expect frontal assault is not the way of this realms denizens." Balhoth offered in reply."I know little of this realm Alarik but I fear we may miss the brutal honesty found in the frontal assault of a Khornate horde." Balhoth continued."None have returned from this realm, it is unlikely our rescue mission will end well." Alarik frowned inside his helmet, glad the rigid facial features forged in his the mask fo the helm hid his repulsion at the sad truth of Balhoth's declaration. Why did he ever hope to find comfort in the words of the Lord Relictor? Balhoth was seldom wrong but even more seldom was the Lord Relictor comforting. Cold, tactical truth was his fluency. A fact which Alarik almost hated as much as he valued it. "Pleasant thought Balhoth. If I get frightened I will dream of the bloodied platues of Aqshy." The Stormcasts had arrived. Just as Lord Grufflz told Rulk they would. "He is so smart smart he is." Rulk thought to himself. The skaven commander known as Grufflz had seen one of the stormcasts dragged off into the darkness by a dark figure the skaven forces only knew as the broody one. Grufflz did not know much about the broody one but he had been seen sporadically in the region lately. Up to no good Grufflz was sure of, which made Grufflz respect the broody one. it takes brains to scheme and made things so much more interesting. Rulk drooled and snorted in excited as whispered to himself. "Storm bullies so dumb dumb getting caught by broody one. Lord Grufflz will skewer them. So glorious." Rulk could see the Stormcasts adjusting to the darkness. They seemed so slow to move and adapt to him. He wondered how they ever had success fighting when they moved so slow. Remembering his duties Rulk let out a low hiss to signal to his troops nearby it was time to draw the Stormcasts into the darkness. To prepare for Sigmar's intrusion on Lord Grufflz bounty. The broody one after all was know to attract warpstone some how. Expecting the Stormcast to arrive in search for their kidnapped companion Lord Grufflz had cunning had his force hedge up the foliage in some areas. The terrain was chocked with this wooden vines. With some manipulation by Rulks men the only clearing the the vines would decide the path of the Stormcasts without them know it. "It needs to look natural, and smooth smooth. We need to give them a path without them knowing we doing it." Grufflz had explained. The next part of the plan was Rulk's favorite. He grew giddy as he remember Grufflz commands. "Remembers cunning ones, stay low low and hidden. Push their feet so softly. Bring them to us. If they wander nudge them here and nudge them there. The are large and blunt, they will not notice you." Such an exciting command to sneakily force the path of the Stormbrutes. Nudge them ever so slightly off course without them noticing. Rulk reveled " So much fun can be had in the dark. So much tricky tricks." Rulk wondered to himself why Lord Grufflz had passed on participating in such an exciting sneaky challenge."Other things he need be doing. So smart, so important." Rulk of course did not realize he had been sent on what could likely turn out to be a suicide mission. If Alaraki did notice the skaven skulking in the darkness he would end them as he sought to end all followers of the chaos pantheon. To Be Continued..... (I will update a narrative version of the battle report when I get a chance)
  22. Good afternooon everyone. I have just heard of the tga.community site while listening to the Mortal Realms Podcast. Really loving the story driven and player cooperation based design that characterizes Age of Sigmar. I'm in a bit of an awkward place where I am really excited about it but none of the guys I play 40k with care at all about it. I am working on an undergraduate degree in Mechanical Engineering that eats up time like an snowball in hell. So with no one to really play with and limited time to play I am mostly buying up the armies i'm interested in and painting where I can. My plan is to hit up the flgs and try to meet some new people to play with when things slow down a little. I did get a friend that play Necrons to did his skaven out. We have started up a narrative campaign with a hero leveling system I half-baked up. I am still writing the battle report but some of those details can be found at realmwalker.wordpress.com I am currently working on 3 main armies Some Stormcast eternals that mostly consists of the starter box, though fighting skaven I may be getting some judicator and decimators. I am also really enjoying painting and building some Khorne Bloodbound. Khornate warriors of chaos are actually my very first minaitures army collection ever. I abandoned them when everyone around me started playing 40k. I also have a sylvaneth force I am painting up. I wan to ally them with a high elf dragon and dragon princes as if a dragon is hiding in Gyhran, protected by servants of alarielle and a few surviving aelfs. We will see where the main narrative goes as far as aelfs are concerned before I finish up that part of the army.
  23. Hey guys, I'm going to compile a list of youtube channels which feature AOS content. I'm planning on keeping this updated with new channels as they are added here. Adam Sinclair Andy 2D6 Guerrilla Minitures Heelan Hammer Hooves of Doom Mini Wargaming Moarhammer 88 Star Mini Gaming Tabletop Minis No Content. No Links. Note: Credit to Coptig81 for the idea. Needed hyperlinks.
  24. i plan on painting (or re painting in the regard of the crew). the robes, capes and trousers will be painted a picture of colours. Armour will be weather bronze and the skin will be a yellow/grey with red noses and ears (I've tried the old yellow look and cant make it blend in to well). All these guys will be heavy washed and weathered. so i managed to get one normal cut throats half done before i had to leave. These two skull cracker crew are almost there, just need some more highlights and weather. If you dont know, the old chaos dwarfs could ride lammasu into battle (yeah wizard riding a wizard), i plan on using a custom warscroll for a general riding one. Il be replacing its wing with something a little more fitting (maybe feathers or a tatty pair of normal wings) Ive also made plans to do a taurus in a similar scale with a reimagining of zhatan the black. Here is Zhatan so far. Also i finished painting my floating soc-prop He just needs weathering and some lighting effects and il be done. more when im back i hope
  25. hello guys and gals welcome to my bloggy blogy of chaos dwarf fun. Note how i say chaos dwarfs and not leagion of azgorh, these guys are back to there roots. Lets hear it for big hats.. i base a lot of my style of this art work mainly the turban style hat and classic chaos dwarf look. The first big thing i did for this army is a taur'uk Lots of sculpting later he is still sat in my box, half painted... any hoo... not wanting to go with the classic lava base i went with something different, polluted river delta. BLack bubbly water and blobs of grass My normally warriors will be forge world ... with a conversion kit for heads (i know the money, my poor wallet) more posted soon... or when ever this blog gets a few comments
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