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  1. Today
  2. Sharkbelly Visits the Silver Tower

    The familiars are finished.
  3. Yesterday
  4. hey guys! i was thinking of starting a beastclaw raider army and the thing i came up whit was this: 1000p army 1 Frostlord on Stonehorn 460p artifact: The Pelt of Charngar lord trait: Everwinter's master 1 Icebrow Hunter 140p artifact: the Bleeding Skull of Dragaar 1 unit of 2 Mournfang Pack 160p Gargant Hackers 3 units of 2 Frost Sabers 3*40p Skal Formation 110p total 990p the idea was to use the frostlord whit the mournfangs to charge from the front and the skal fromation to get the hunter in the backline whit the sabers. the hunter should be in range to use his artifact so that i can stop at least a spell a turn. what do you guys think of this kind of list? i also had several qeustions: do the mournfang get both the banner and the horn at a 2 unit strenght? or do you need 3 of them? 1 leader, 1 horn, 1 banner? do i only benefit from the beastclaw Everwinter's Blessing or Rampaging Destruction or both?
  5. Last week
  6. Earlier
  7. Farmer's Undead

    I decided to get my Forgeworld Wight King BSB ready for some paint: I've had this guy for about as long as I've had Krell (maybe 5 years) so it's nice to finally get around to working on him. I'm not too sure how I want to approach this one yet though - I'll probably end up doing the metals in the same style as my Black Knights, but something gives me the idea that he could look pretty cool in full bronze... I've also taken the banshees off the Mortis Engine sprue and decided to play about with positioning options on single bases: These girls have more aggressive and striking poses than the standard single mini, so I thought I'd blu-tac them to trees to see how to make that work to their advantage. What are your thoughts? More coming soon, thanks for taking a look
  8. Farmer's Greenskins

    16 more Night Gobbos to join the ranks: These round up the spears unit to 35.I like painting these as they're pretty easy to do and look cool when done. I've got shed loads of these still left unpainted and plan to beef up the ranks with a bunch of fun fillers in the early part of next year. Cheers for taking a look!
  9. Sharkbelly Visits the Silver Tower

    Sorry for the poor quality photo, but we finished out battle with the Gaunt Summoner the other day. We went in with mostly full health and got a very lucky roll on the fate dice (no doubles). This allowed us to pretty much steam roll the summoner. Although the Knight Questor did his best to extend the combat by whiffing on 5 out of 6 attacks...
  10. Shaman git

    Sum new shaman stick waver - so far he has ‘sploded a wild boar, hexed crippling flatulence upon a belligerent Black Orc and starts fires to help get grub’ on quick. So for now, as far as the warband are concerned, he’s not on the menu himself just yet.
  11. Moonclan

    Sum of the gits from the Bloody Moon mob
  12. Brawl

    Sum of dem moonclan grots jumping a young tin head an his humie gitmob
  13. Stone munchas

    Couple of dem stone munching big fellas
  14. Moonclan gits

    You ken see that pointy nosed git Skrix the Skrounger or the beak from the peak we calls him'
  15. Gitboss and boyz

    Da boss and his hacky pole lads
  16. Sum of the da grots

    Spida fiddlas, Hacky poles and them skulkin moon staring gits.
  17. Showin how big dem wolf lads are
  18. Anudder of dem wolf gits

    Said my piece before, but lemme add, they're ded fast too
  19. Fur huggin gits

    These are the stinkin' snarling, chow stealin' and biting furry gits and their wolves.
  20. Hacky pole gits

    Them lads wot uses dem choppy pole things and hidin' behind bloomin' doors.
  21. Settra

    Finally got around to painting this guy and am looking forward to using him next weekend!
  22. Slave Orc Heads of Ancient Times These heads are out now! Order your Slave Orc heads here: Also on Etsy and on Blogspot. Priced at €9 per each kit of 12 heads upon release. Cast in whitemetal by Czech Custom Made Miniatures, who went to unusual lengths with the mould in order to preserve texture on the heads. Size comparison, first picture of painted Orcs with bodies from other manufacturer provided by Bloodbeard, second such picture by Carcearion: Sculpts, for detail display purposes: _____________________________ Hobgoblin Slavedrivers of Ancient Times These scumbags are out now! Order your Slavedrivers here: Also on Etsy and on Blogspot. Priced at €9 per each kit of 2 Hobgoblins upon release. Cast in whitemetal by Czech Custom Made Miniatures. Size comparison, old Hobgoblin miniature courtesy of Fuggit Khan: _____________________________ Scarred feet trundled across the ashen wastes to the constant rattle of chains. Many of those feet had less then their usual number of toes. On high, the sun glared hot and dry, its blistering gaze only interrupted by billowing volcanic plumes from a distant stretch of young mountains. The land was ruthless, and so were its inhabitants. A whip coiled through the dusty air and lashed, yet again, hard across lumbering green backs that quickly were becoming flayed to the bone. Hardly a whimper escaped from the captives. Skylxys Wartface was not content with the response, so he struck once more, but this time aimed the whip at a single bastard Orc. The iron tip of the long, braided lash bit into the raw, crimson mass which was all that was left of the sod's muscles that covered his exposed scapulae. Bloody droplets flew from the impact and the eternal cloud of flies scattered from the sudden violence. This time, the lashing action got its deserved reply, and the hulking wretch stumbled to his knees and yelped in agony, grunting and panting. The hands of the Orc lost grip of his shovel and instead flew out sideways to cover his pained back, yet the shackles which bound the thrall's wrists together arrested the hands pathetically in mid-air. The sight bemused the grizzled Hobgoblin slavdriver, and Skylxus drank in the sight with all the glee that a weaker creature can muster at the utter subjugation of someone greater and stronger than himself. “My, my. Me knees be damned if it isn't Qurluk the great himself who grovels in the dust,” snarled Skylxus with a leer that twisted his kife-cut face. He reeled in the whip and nonchalantly juggled with a fat knife in one hand, tossing and spinning it with disregard for his own fingers' health. “Noo! Uh! NO!” wailed the slave Orc in protest. The high pitch was unbefitting for such a mighty creature, whose dark and gruff tones usually were the dread of settlers, nomads and beasts alike. Though the wretch's hands and feet between them only had enough digits for one full hand and one full foot, he scrambled to rise, knowing where such special attention from the overseers would land him. A savage kick in the small of his back sent the large Orc grabbling to the ground, flying flat on his starved belly. That violence was sweet to Skylxus, and he wanted no one to miss his moment of supremacy. “HALT! Hold yer steps you maggots, or I'll gut yer lousy skinbags and strangle you all with yer own intestines!” roared the Hobgoblin and planted his sandalled foot on Qurluk's messy back, pinning the brute more by fear than by weight. The slavedriver's few colleagues dealt out strikes, prods, pinches, kicks and lashes and yelled at their slave flock to turn about and face the head whipper. As always, the sight of the measly gang of Hobgoblins with spears and whips lording it over the many more and much stronger Orcs was an offense to the order of things as set down by the gods who had shaped the world. The situation was surreal and unthinkable, had not those devil tribes of Ashen Dwarfs figured out ways to make the most unbending, proud and wild berzerkers in all of the inhabited world yield under their yoke. Of course, to break the spirit of something as strong and independent as an Orc required a degree of crushing brutality and cruel finesse that very nearly broke the body unto death, but the lardy stunted ones had figured out just the right balance, as was evident in the enslaved Orcs' starved, shackled, torn and mutilated bodies... The miserable view of the slave Orc throng herded by the gangly Hobgoblins made Skylxus Wartface cackle with hoarse and rasping laughter. The imbecilles! Just look at their wretchedness! “As I said, if ye had the sense to listen, this here on the ground is THE great Manstomper heeself,” spat the slavedriver and performed a theatrical mock bow to his audience. “Ladeez and gentle-Orcs, may I present to you the mighty warlord, the fear of Humans and Orcs alike and the thunder of the steppes? The cleaver of two thousand skulls and the ripper of tents. The drinker of blood, oh my! The puller of monster claws and the crusher of families, the one and only Orc king Qurluk!” The other Hobgoblins sniggered and grinned between themselves. The watching Orcs stood dumb and lost in their shackles staring at the world from a little corner of their minds which their essence had retreated into when cruel oppressors wrecked their pride, their sanity and sense of self. Some drooled, some had jaws hanging slack from excessive blows, while some few sported no jaws at all after some punishment or capricious whim. Such a pathetic gaggle of broken ones hardly cared to see one of their own, and a leader at that, sprawled on the sand and gravel like a heap of filth. For filth he was, and so were they, and they wished nothing but to be left alone, caring not for others and being still alive only because the gods had made the will for life strong indeed in all mortals. Oh, the degradation on display was sweet like honey to Skylxus' red eyes. “But is he truly your king?” asked the slavedriver harshly. The whistling of the wind, the snickering of Hobgoblins and the clink of chain links was the only answer. Skylxus set his whip and knife in his belt, bowed down and picked up a huge tool, holding it with trembling arms over his hat-crowned head. “No! He is Shovel the slave, property of the Temple of Kardrunnak in Zuppar and part of canal-digging gang Fifty-Four! and this dungfly has dropped his tool. Bloody useless! Mayhap he has pretensions of royalty to distract himself? Could that be why Shovel forgets himself? How can you be Shovel without yer shovel?” Upon raising this question, Skylxyus flicked the heavy tool down onto the head of once-Qurluk. The Orcish skull cracked audibly at the impact, and his head collapsed feebly to the ground. “But let's be understanding for once, shall we? The mistake is easy to make. For Shovel do look like Qurluk the great, but this cannot be! Shovel is Shovel, and no more than a tool.” The band of slave Orcs stood limply with hanging arms, blinking at the bewildering speech. The Hobgoblin slavedrivers, on the other hand, started to cackle among themselves. They were more clever than some dumb Orcs and caught that drift all right. All of them stepped forth, surrounding the lying slave on the ground, grabbing hold of him and turning him over so that all in attendance could see properly. “Since Shovel's face is such a source of trouble, let us relieve the poor fellow,” barked Skylxus Wartface harshly and drew his thick knife with impatience. His companions tightened their grips on Shovel and produced his head for ease of reach. And then, in that savage act of flaying, did the stark utter cruelty on public display finally reach through the apathy of Qurluk's kinsfolk, and a glimmer of primal fear and recognition of their own brutish treatment struck a chord in the jaded hearts of broken slave Orcs. And they cringed and bayed and whimpered, not daring to move a foot unless they, too, would receive a similar treatment. Yet the show was not over yet. When the slavedriver had finished carving into the weakly struggling head of Shovel, he grabbed hold of the skin and drew it off with both hands, planting a sandalled foot on the Orc's shoulder to brace himself. Blood glistened on the Hobgoblin as he raised the slack hide of Shovel's face to the skies and kicked the victim on his newly exposed face musculature. “Haha! And now he'll eat it!” cackled the slavedriver, and forced once-warlord Qurluk to devour his own visage and so become one of the faceless mass of slaves who laboured under the cruel dominion of the Ashen Dwarfs and their sadistic middlemen. Life was short and unforgiving and you had to enjoy what triumphs you could before someone ended you. Then the march went on as if nothing had happened. And that night, near the site of overlord Hashdrubael's newly started irrigation canal, Skylxus Wartface slept very well indeed under his ragged blankets by the crackling campfire. _____________________________ “Chop-chop, chop-fed! Drop-drop, drop-dead! Lop-lop-lop, lop off his head! We've cut off the heads of a thousand mountain Ogres, and the heads of a thousand-thousand sea Elves! We now want the heads of a thousand-thousand-thousand hillmen, and then the heads of a thousand-thousand-thousand-thousand steppe Orcs! One man has cut off the heads of a thousand-thousand-thousand-thousand-thousand marsh Goblins, for no man has ever drank so much wine as this man has of blood poured out! Chop-chop, chop-fed! Drop-drop, drop-dead! Lop-lop-lop, lop off his head!” - The Beheading Song, a marching song also popular among Ashen Dwarf children.
  23. Rank & File Tjublings (15mm) Out Now!

    The tall host of Zhurem-Zhalkazinulbar marched out with heavy steps, hate and greed writ upon their bearded faces and devotional mysticism evident in their dark voices as they sang their hymns and dirges and recited their mantras and mouthed their fervent prayers. The omens had been good, and due sacrifice in blood had been offered up to the altar fires. The fickle gods were now all on their side, and this true knowledge made every man beam with haughty pride and cruel confidence. Their demeanour was that of conquerors, and they wore their hammers and axes, their shields and blunderbusses, as a race of born rulers. All did so, except for the shamed warriors of the death's mask. Pariahs and shunned outcasts, they were nought but slaves, and they made for a grim appearance on the battlefield as the great army deployed in deep formations. On the other side stood the enemy, all filthy, lowly and inferior, a tribe of savages to be trampled underfoot. The warriors of the tall host knew this, for they relished in the slaughter to come. And they raised their battlecry, with a roar alike thunder on high: “Hat or die!” _________________________________________________ These 15mm models are out now! Order your Tjublings here: Also on Etsy and on Blogspot. Priced upon release at €2,5 per each kit of 4 Tjublings (or 3 command models), they are also available in a Maniple bundle of 20 rank and file plus 3 command models for €13. Sculpted by Tobias Torstensson (tjub) and spincast in metal by Hysterical Games. Sold unpainted and unassembled. Remember that miniatures in smaller scales than 28mm are perfect material for adorning your luxurious monumental architecture.
  24. Sharkbelly Visits the Silver Tower

    The one nice thing about not finishing is that I can try to finish the Gaunt Summoner before we conclude.
  25. Farmer's Undead

    Here's the 2-year army shot: ...compared to the previous year: Not exactly sure what I want to work on next. For a while I've had the idea of having big evil trees as a 'counts-as' for crypt horrors, so I've been looking at potentially using Kurnoth Hunters, which could work well if converted appropriately: Their size is spot on, their poses are what I'm after... and they're trees! My rough idea right now is: add spikey upward-pointing branches to areas that could benefit from them, make their faces more horrifying, convert their arms & hands to branch-like talons get rid of all the elfy-looking stuff Suggestions and comments welcome, let me know what you guys think.
  26. Ogor War Mammoth warscroll

    Thankyou : )
  27. Farmer's Undead

    Here we go, the four remaining Hexwraiths are done: I ended up going for a few head swaps pre-paint. I decided that the half-naked guy on the far left looked a bit too plain, so he got a flaming head with a jaw cut off - it's made him stand out much more than before. The finished batch together: I'm pretty happy with how they've turned out. They've got a 'cold-as-death' aura to them, which is what I imagine wraiths as. One of the final touches that just gave them a totally different look was concentrating the intensity of the heat of the bigger flames toward their source. It's really helped to make them pop and has turned my otherwise very mediocre flames into something I've become a bit more content with. Here's a shot of the finished unit: Really glad these guys can finally join the rest of my army, and now that they're all done I'm mulling on how I want to expand this army throughout the third year. The second-year army shot is also on the way. Cheers for taking a look
  28. Sharkbelly Visits the Silver Tower

    My group and I played through the first game in a campaign yesterday. It was a blast! We started in the library. The one lone Pink Horror that was acting as librarian wasn't too tough, and left us feeling pretty good about our chances. Next up was the Whirligig passage. This one got crowded really fast, and we were worried that we would be overwhelmed. But after slogging it out, we managed just fine. Then came the Abandoned Nest. We discovered it was home to an exotic enemy, and went with the Exalted Flamer. Fortunately the Knight Questor was able to put some damage on it before the Fireslayer Doomseeker finished it off. The next room was Perilous Footing, which was appropriate enough because there was a trip of Screamers hovering around in it. The Knight made good use of his challenge ability to draw them in so they wouldn't get fly-by attacks on their own turn. Finally, we arrived at the last room: Searing Beams. This one featured two turnable pillars that fire beams of searing light. The room was absolutely packed with cultists and horrors, but by now we had started to work out a routine. The Excelsior Warpriest used his blast of holy energy to pop 6 or 7 Brimstone Horrors at once. We actually had to stop the game because we ran out of time, and have not yet finished the final encounter with the Gaunt Summoner. So I will let you know how it turns out!
  29. Warscroll Topics

    The 'I'm da boss' command ability that doubles any damage when you roll a 6 to wound on any Moonclan unit within 20", last time I looked the Mangler squigs has the Moonclan keyword... can we seriously do this!?! Mangler squig basic attack that does 3 damage can potentially be doubled?? I suppose it may be a little tough to keep it in range but 20" range isn't too bad, does anybody use this? Or is sticking him in with a big Moonclan Grot unit a more reliable option?
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