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A modern major general

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For reasons that will become readily apparent in the next campaign update, I recently found myself in need of a new general for my Hochland army. Whilst plans are still afoot for Hochland’s Elector Count on a griffon, I also wanted someone a bit less points-heavy. More specifically, I wanted a general on foot who could sit in the middle of the battle line (where his leadership bonus would be, you know, relevant).

Thus, without further preamble, I give you General Rikarht von Haas:


Rikarht’s been serving as the captain of the Tussenhof city watch. As much as he’s respected in the city, the most dangerous situations he’s dealt with involve gangs of hungry refugees looting the Tussenhof markets. Being an officer of noble birth, he’s well-schooled in matters of strategy, but he’s got no front line experience; he knows full well that the only reason he’s been given the job is that there’s no-one else left.

The conversion work on the model was relatively limited. The original had a pretty classic neckbeard, and an officer’s... stick... thing. Baton? Whatever. Also a skull badge on the hat. And, crucially, the plimsolls of martial prowess.

Slippers maketh the man.

Step one was to shave the little plastic man’s beard. Then, to scrape off the skull hat badge, replace the baton with a shortsword, remove the feather to allow better head positioning, and then to sculpt boot cuffs.

Overall I’m pretty happy with the result. But for the few details I changed, I like the model, and whilst the paint job is nowhere near my best (I rushed several elements) Rikarht looks equal parts craggy and uncertain. To my eyes, at least. Crucially, he has enough bling to mark him apart from the captains in the army – in fact, he’s the only model in the Hochlanders with any gold on him.

Hmm. I seem to have been posting nothing but single miniatures lately. I shall endeavour to get a campaign update out at some point, and maybe some other ramblings. If there’s anything anyone would be particularly interested to hear about, drop something in the comments and I’ll consider it.


~Charlie

Banebeasts Chimaera

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Hello and welcome to my first and last commission job. Approximately ages ago, my mate Nick decided he wanted the Banebeasts "Chimaera". He really, really wanted it. And then he asked if I’d be willing to paint it. For money.

Me: And you want me to paint it, like, nicely?
Nick: That’s kindof the point, yes.
Me: Judging by the photo on the website, it looks quite big.
Nick: Yep.
Me: It might take me a while.
Nick: Sure.
Me: A long while.
Nick: OK.
Me: Which means commissioning it might cost a fair bit.

I quoted Nick a big number that would have me working for over 70 hours at a low wage. I figured at this point Nick would give up and let me go back to having no money ever.

Nick: Can I pay in instalments?

Clearly I hadn’t appreciated quite how much Nick wanted this model.


Also, I suspect Nick didn’t realise quite how long it’d take me to finish. Admittedly this is more because I’m a dreadful person to hire as a painter, since my brain was challenged to the absolute limit of endurance by this model. It’s more like painting five big and completely different models and then blending them all together. Several of these elements required me to make up techniques previously unknown to me. There was also a lot of research.




I have never, for instance, needed to blend two different types of varnish into each other to create a fade from satin to gloss (hallo, scorpion tail).

Other demanding things included the request that I paint the dragon head blue. Blue? BLUE? BLUE LIZARD HEAD? SCREW YOU, COMMISIONER MAN PERSON. I didn’t even know blue was a thing lizards could be.

Toot toot, Google image search to the rescue. Blue iguanas all up in this shizznit.


With the rest of the model, Nick gave me total freedom. Being a masochist, I decided to blend all the way from amber to jet black, rather than just going for ye classic big black scorpion o’ doom. I really am my own worst enemy.

The goat head was a much simpler affair; I tried to emulate the look of an ibex. Definitely the easiest part of the model.


On the subject of the model itself, as much as it might take an age to paint, the sculpt itself is pretty boss sausage in almost every respect. Every respect except its danglies. If you sculpt a lion’s junk, I have to know how to paint a lion’s junk, which means I have to image search a lion’s junk, which means a) oh god the search history, and b) I now know that balls are balls, but the sausage looks nothing like that in real life. In fact, it’s more of a... actually you probably don’t need to know that. You aren’t painting a little resin lion’s little resin bits.



Assembly was fairly simple; the individual lion claws were fiddly, and other than that, some sculpting was needed to mask the joins.


Technique wise, my main take-home point was painting fur. For me it’s all about starting with a light white or off-white and using glazes to punt it towards the colour you want. The mane, for instance, began as a mid brown overbrushed Dheneb Stone and then drybrushed up to white, followed by five or six successive glazes, each applied before the other had dried, to effectively wet-blend the shades into each other. This made it easy to vary the hue of the fur, and kept the colours vibrant.


The base was something of a project in and of itself. I didn’t want it to distract attention from the model (not that too many things could draw attention away from that thing) but at the same time, couldn’t just have the thing standing on a patch of perfectly flat ground. Would’ve looked weird. Besides, I needed to build parts of the base up a little so that all six of its limbs were connecting fully with the ground. Hence:


I smoothed it all over with filler, and tried to make the finished product look something like semi-boggy moorland. Here it is from the model’s-eye-view:


And now, finally, it is finished. Dear sweet Jeebus. To conclude, here are some photos to put things into scale (beyond the fact that it’s on a base generally reserved for an Arachnarok).



When confronted with his new pet, Nick described it as “bang tidy.” Urban Dictionary has subsequently informed me that this is a good thing.

~Charlie


A letter from the front

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It’s been a long, long time since the last update on our Hochland campaign.

One of the reasons it’s been so long is that so much stuff has happened that it was hard to think of a format in which to deliver said events. Or at least, a format that wasn’t just a series of bullet points slightly drier than an octogenarian’s happy parts.

Finally it came to me: what better way than to write a letter from the perspective of the Empire’s new commander writing his first report back to Tussenhof?

Rikarht von Hess

But first, here’s an update of the campaign map:


I’ll sprinkle a few portraits of the characters mentioned in the letter as a reminder of who’s who.



For the attention of Aldebrand Ludenhof, Elector of Hochland

My lord,

Now I see why you delegated so much responsibility to Von Rüdiger. Our armies are engaged on so many fronts that it would be impossible to conduct the business of ruling the province at the same time. Admittedly, Von Rüdiger had one advantage over me: I very much doubt that vampires need to sleep. Speaking of which, have you heard anything of him since his disappearance?

Templar Grand Masters:
Sometimes they have dirty secrets

At the least, he has not returned to the chapter house in Bergsburg; the rest of the Inner Circle were kept there under house arrest for the better part of two months, scrutinised by priests of Shallya and Morr. They have now been released; my need of them was greater than my suspicion of them. I’ll explain that momentarily.

Speaking of people I don’t trust, Amelia von Lessing has returned to Hochland. Some of my captains are treating this as excellent news, but I am less than enthralled. Did you know, my lord, that she disappeared from Bergsburg because she was arrested?For arranging the murder of her father? I knew the man: one of Nordland’s finest generals. I don’t know the details of the case, but there can be no excuse for murder. That the judge let her off so lightly seems suspicious as well. I am of the understanding that amethyst wizards project their thoughts into the minds of others, and find it strange that she was not only spared the gallows, but allowed to pay off most of her jail time by selling her family’s estate to Nordland’s coffers. She might have helped us in the past, but I’ll be watching her movements closely all the same.

Amelia von Lessing

I said I’d explain why I needed the Silver Drakes. That need came from a new foe: a dwarf clan. Not the Stormbournes, who remain locked away in their mountain hold ignoring the slaughter around them, but some new clan, dabbling in sorcery and other, darker forces. They sent a great beast of fire and molten metal to break the walls of Fort Schippel. Von Lessing described it as a ‘K’Daai,’ whatever that is. It seemed impervious to conventional attacks, and it was only by the grace of Brother Marten’s blessings and von Lessing’s hexes that we slew the beast, and at great cost.

Seeing their creation banished, the dwarves were dismayed, and withdrew. We were in no condition to give pursuit, so great were our losses. The dwarves made captives of those who fled or fell in battle; what they want with them I do not know. If our other foes relent, we may effect a rescue.

Further east, the beastmen of the Drakwald Forest have grown in numbers, and are now venturing forth from the forest to attack us in the open for the first time in years.

Obviously, this makes further improvements to Fort Schippel critical. On that front I must relay yet more ill news. The brace of cannon you sent up with me – fresh from the new foundry in Tussenhof – were of inferior quality to those pressed in Nuln. I know this because we were ambushed by the Bittermoon goblins whilst transporting them to Schippel. Both barrels ruptured and exploded on their second shots. Humbly, I ask you for replacements of superior craftsmanship.

It is also of note that the goblins were, when we came upon each other, transporting freshly-felled lumber with the aid of a giant. What they are constructing, I am not sure, but with the beastmen and dwarves, we can no longer picket Rhagat’s lair in the Weiss Hills.

Worse, a new tribe of rat-men have been sighted in a number of places, but how they are moving such great distances unseen is a mystery to all. We may seek counsel with the Stormbournes, who seem to know more about these creatures.

The south, as you probably know, is still beset by a number of small Norse tribes, apparently united under the leadership of a man named ‘Volgin’. His finest warriors are protected from our handgunners’ reach by some foul magic, and engaging with them at arm’s reach would cost us too many men. If we are to drive them out, I must devise some new strategy.

In such dire times, one would hope the Elves would continue their efforts, and yet, nothing has been seen of them for several weeks. They seem to have disappeared into the western Drakwald.

But fear not, my lord. I will not falter in my duty. I will listen to my officers, I will safeguard the towns we have left, and I will take the fight to our enemies. We’ll not hide behind these crumbling walls anymore.

Sincerely,

General Rikarht von Hess

You're Gonna Land On That?!

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Good day fellow hobbyists.

Many moons ago during one of Charlie's scenery parties. Yes, that a party where we all get stuck into building and painting scenery, it's a really great way of getting a lot done in a short time and takes a lot of the tedium out of the process. Anyway, I had the honour(?) of painting a Skyshield landing pad. Whilst its a really good bit of kit, it's rather huge and I decided in my foolish youthfulness to paint the whole thing in the patented Jeff-Rust method (PVP Workbench tutorial: rusting). Well, doing that over the 500 square inches (I counted them!) of the surface it was definitely a labour of love.

Now, Em and I are building our very own urban board and I really wanted to have a Skyshield of my own. They make great objectives and general scenery piece. Since times and paints have changed, here is an updated step by step of getting the same/similar effects in new money.

Mobile users, this is going to be picture heavy.

First thing, Reference materiel. It's always a good idea to find real world examples of what you are aiming for. This is the man-hole cover in our back garden.



Right, primed and ready to rock.



Step One: Doom Bull Brown all over. Doesn't have to be the neatest paint job ever, just avoid huge streaky bits. 




Step Two: Whilst that huge thing is drying off (both sides) Get with the dry brushing of the concrete pillars. They don't have to be concrete, but I like the effect and it breaks up the brown. This is a simple Mechanicus Standard Grey followed by Dawnstone Grey. Then Doom Bull Brown on all the metal bits. 





Step Three: Dry brush everything that is metal with Leadbelcher. Be sure to give some areas a heavier dry brush than over to give the feel of uneven corrosion. Also, give some focus on the parts that will see more use than others. 





Step Four: Half dry brush and half stipple Riza Rust dry brush paint. The dry brush gives a soft variation to the colour and stippling gives a nice fresh rust feel. Going nusts at this stage will give you a really heavy rust. Lighter coverage will look less corroded. Just go with what feels right for you.




 Step Five (Optional): So this is where I started painting some of the surface details that I wanted to blend into the rusted metal. Hazard stripes are always a favourite and give things a lovely industrial feel. I started with a black back ground then roughly sketch the guides for the stripes. Some people fine it easier to mask things off, I dislike myself and decided to freehand the stripes.






Step Six: The wash. You can do this with Nuln Oil but, it's a huge area to cover and you'll get through a pot or so. I find it easier to simply water down Abaddon Black, with a touch of pva glue to hold it together. The heavier you make the wash the dark and dirtier your final finish will be.



Step Seven: Once that wash was dry (it takes a while) I set about doing the surface details that I didn't want covered in filth, so the white of the imperial eagles here. Also to note, I've not gone all the way up to the edges and left it rather rough. This is to give the impression of paint flaking off with wear and tear. 



aaaaaaand we're done! 



So, this was a little less painful than the last one I did and I think it turned out alright. We've still got more scenery to get though but I'll stick more photo's up once the rest have been done and set out on the board, if our dear readers are interested.

till then, take it easy!
Maisey




Devlaholics Anonymous

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Things I have done with Devlan Mud


Sitting there, looking at a pile of 56 unpainted Skaven slaves; I'm thinking

“I'm going to cherish and value each and every one of you and give you a paintjob fit for a prince of Slaneesh”.

2 rats in, the base coats are going on with a drybrush and I'm thinking

“I want to get shot of you as quickly as possible and you’re going to get a paintjob fit for the dirty, useless, and expendable, 2 point shod that you are.”

The redemption for these very poorly painted models was that they’d get a lovely coating of Citadel Devlan mud wash once the base colours were on and dry.

Devlan Mud was splendid! It hid where I’d gone over the lines, did some shading, added definition to the model and even filled in the crevices - a la the old technique of black lining. It made everything look dirty and shonky and gave the illusion that I was a competent painter. It was my staple diet for rat painting and I thrived upon it.

I'm special too!


Then something happened… Something awful… It became referred to as the Devocalypse - Citadel stopped making Devlan mud.

Initially, it didn’t seem too bad - I had a small stockpile and they said that they’d replaced it with another wash: a material called Agrax Earthshade. It didn’t bother me for a while, and I kept on using my stockpile of Devlan Mud.

I was down to my last two pots of Devy and I thought “I’d better give this ‘Ajax Earthshade’ a go - see what it’s like”.
And I did, and I looked upon what this ‘Ajax Earthspade’ had done. And I was not pleased.

Where Devy had stunk of epic win, ‘Ajax Earspade’ had the sweat smell of rotting fail all over it - it didn’t hide my sloppy brushwork; it wasn't as good at shading; it didn't add decent definition and it didn't fill the crevices. In fact it did the opposite - it acted more like an overall tone to the model.
It had an added disadvantage: my rats were coming out shiny. My rats were becoming like Skaven from the Twilight films - sparkly… Real Skaven don’t twinkle!



Clearly, ‘Amtrak Earspade’ was neither going to cut the mustard, nor sizzle the sausages. I had to find a replacement for this delinquent chemical monstrosity tout bloody suite!

So I tried some replacements and this is what I found (in a handy table).





Name
Devlan Mud
Agrax Earthshade
Umber / Black shade mix
Strong Tone
Who makes it
No-one L
G Dubz
Vallejo
Army Painter
The Good
The original and best. Hides sloppy edges, shades and defines. Good for rusty metal.
Consistent results
Er….

You can still buy it?
Provides good shading. Not glossy.
Comes in cool dropper bottles
Nearly as good as Devlan Mud.
Fills in the crevices without blackening the model.
Comes in cool dropper bottles
The Bad
Smells a bit (not really a problem for me).
Allegedly slightly water soluble once dry.
Has a redder tone than Devlan mud, so can’t be used as a direct replacement – which is a bit annoying if you want one half of your army to resemble the other half you painted before the Devocalypse. Not as ‘strong’. Seems to be lacking in ‘suspended solids’.
Very glossy – makes models shiny and plastic looking.
Doesn't seem to fill crevices but does stick to the flat surfaces.
Too high in suspended solids.
Flattens any highlighting and ‘blacks out’ some parts of the model.
Inconsistent results.
Neither colour wash is quite ‘right’ so mixing is necessary.
A bit shiny, but not as bad as Agrax.

The ugly
 You can't buy it any more. 


The only stockist I've found is an Essex company who take 6 weeks to post an order.

So to sum up. None of the replacements are perfect, but the one I've found that works best is Army Painter’s Strong Tone.


I'm in the middle of a rat binge at the moment but I'm gearing up to make more progress on the Blasta Bomma. Watch this space.


No. not this space, that other space.

Comments? Further silly names for Aardvark Enfilade? Criticism about the poor quality of the trial. Criticism about the poor quality of my posts? Comments box below. 

The Improbable Mission Force (Part One)

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Greetings bunker dwellers! Lordy, three months have passed since I last posted here. I’ve been focusing rather on the last bits of commission stuff I was working on (before wrapping up that whole thing) rather than my own hobby. Fortunately, even in the busiest times I can find space for a dwarf, or twelve…

 
This motley crew are an upgrade to my Dwarf Rangers, a sort of Impossible Mission Force. Remember last time when I was talking about fun things that develop during narrative campaigns? Well Stromni’s Wanderers – the name for the Rangers in my army – have grown far beyond their battlefield role. We’ve mentioned before how we’re mostly all roleplayers as well as wargamers and thus have fun doing small, story-driven missions where we can achieve goals that don’t belong on the field of battle. When I was trying to figure out which unit would be best for covert and highly secret intelligence gathering and concealed naughtiness against my allies (ahem) enemies, one group kept coming up. The rangers, they already do the intelligence gathering, they’re seen as a bit weird by the rest of the Dwarfs – they actually likebeing in sunlight – so tend to keep themselves to themselves and they are fantastically versatile troops able to switch from missile to devastating close combat punch in a moment. Perfect, thought I! So, as is my want, I gently rewrote my Dwarf backstory again and made rangers something between MI5 and a gang of heavies putting the squeeze on people. I then realised how much fun it would be if there was a hard core within the rangers; a squad of individuals who would take on the toughest missions; do the unspeakable without complaint; for whom no task is too low and “for the good of the mission” is their creed; there could be twelve of them; doing the dirty work… a Dwarfish Dirty Dozen perchance…

the more normal half dozen
Now this is something of a collaborative effort. In order to prevent this post being nine miles long I am splitting it between here and Pirate Viking Painting. I’ll waffle on about models and paint choices over at PVP and here? Here we will meet the little devils, find out what they do, what makes them tick and the few little rules tweaks (there are more in the odd squad than the normals) that we’ve made to give them a bit of an edge in their chosen fields. Also, given that there are twelve of the little blighters I’ll split the post in half along a rather natural break line, see, there are 6 fairly normal rangers… and then there are the odd squad. We’ll meet them next time, today? It is the turn of the rangers of the DDD. And where better to start than with their fearless, taciturn leader Stromni Skystride:

Stromni Skystride
Like most of the Dwarfs of Karak Hoch, Stromni hails from Barak Varr, that great Dwarf seaport. The Barak Varr Dwarfs are considered odd by other holds for their seafaring ways so rangers are not so uncommon there. Life in sunlight is a part of the nautical life after all. Stromni though, even as a Beardling, was a natural ranger. He was always uncomfortable underground (indeed, it is a great secret of his that he is claustrophobic) and took every opportunity to slip away to the artillery ranges coving the approaches to Barak Varr and enjoy the bright landscape beyond. He joined the Rangers as soon as was proper and distinguished himself ever since. When the Karak Hoch reclamation mission was being assembled, Stromni jumped at the chance to journey the empire. Impressed by his taciturn manner and sharp eye for intelligence gathering, Dwalin Gravenrune (runelord of the Karak) requested that he form the small band of highly motivated rangers to undertake... special tasks for him. 

Stromni is a normal Dwarf Ranger Champion with all the normal rules, he needs nothing else. He is a cautious soul though and so in place of the usual great axe and light leather armour of his fellows he totes a handaxe and shield and the dull gleam of heavy Dwarven scalemaille gleams beneath his bearskin cloak.

Hourfall Giantbane
Stromni's strong right arm is Hourfall Giantbane. Named for the mighty deed of felling a hill giant single handed, Hourfall is the Champion of the Stromni's Wanderers regiment. Stromni may be their leader but his dour, quiet manner is not suited to the "fire the blood" requirements of the battlefield. That falls to Hourfall. The two men have been friends since their earliest days in the rangers and are thick as thieves when off duty. Hourfall is the only one who knows Stromni's secret and covers for him should he need to withdraw because of it. He has his own oddness - as do most rangers - a fondness for Cathayan and Indish teas over good Dwarfish Ale (the model has a charming tea kettle on it's pack) but as long as he's fighting with the sort of fortitude that he does the others don't mind.

Hourfall is a Dwarf Ranger Champion with no other alterations.

Forkin the Fat
Forkin is the teams support weapon. Short even for a Dwarf and somehow remaining fat even on the levels of rations and exercise that the 'Dozen get he isn't suited to the quick insertion or the stealthy run. He is, though, a genius at mechanics and only failed to become an engineer through a series of unfortunate and embarrassing accidents that got him tarred as a liability. Finding kinship with other "failures" in Dwarf life in the Rangers, Forkin never really excelled. Crossbows weren't his thing and he tended to be at the back of a charge. That all changed when he found the corpse of an Empire marksman in the field, clutched in his lifeless hands the smashed remains of his repeater hand gun. Forkin spent weeks tinkering, cleaning, repairing and improving the weapon until it was once more functional. While it is a poor choice for some of the missions the 'Dozen get chosen for - a near silent crossbow is much preferred - Forkin has found a role on overwatch. He joins the snipers and watches the flow of the mission. He's become adept at reading that moment when stealth and surprise are about to be lost. Forkin's bellow of "Go Loud!" has warned many a ranger that they are about to be discovered and if not, the devastating psychological impact of a hail of lead and the thunderous noise certainly changes the game.

Forkin is a Dwarf Ranger with a Dwarf-crafted repeater handgun.

Fibor Hawkseye
While most of the Rangers on the battlefield are dual weapon specialists with greataxe and crossbow, some make a special study of one or the other. Within the 'Dozen, there are a trio of crossbow specialists who act as snipers and fire support covering retreats (as well as keeping Forkin calm and quiet). Their leader is Fibor Hawkseye. Fibor is calm, paternalistic to the other snipers and tries to keep a lid on the competitiveness of Vierlin and Azrik, "Mission first, glory second" is his motto. He also tends to be the point defence-man when the enemy get too close. With an axe blade fitted as a bayonet and a dagger to back it up he is more than a match for most common foes.

Fibor Hawkseye is a Dwarf ranger, his armaments grant him a crossbow and two hand weapons.

Vierlin Sureshot
Vierlin Sureshot really shouldn't be in the Empire. As far as her family back in Barak Varr know, she has simply disappeared. Vierlin is the only heir of a wealthy and powerful maritime trading family - her real family name is Vierlin Ironkeel - who were instrumental in the destruction of the Stormbourne legacy and fortune. Disgusted at her father's dishonourable tactics and glee at Hafnir's fall, she decided to punish him by robbing him of a useful political tool of her hand in marriage. Hearing of the Stormbourne exodus - again from her mocking father - she slipped away and joined the barges. She turned out to be an excellent shot and found herself increasingly falling in with the rangers, a more different group to her normal social circle you would never find. She has since been inducted into the dozen and has a not-so-friendly rivalry with Azrik for kills in the field.

Vierlin is a Dwarf Ranger with hand weapon rather than great weapon.

Azrik Deadeye
Azrik Deadeye is the medic of the 'Dozen, he trained with the priestesses of Valaya and is devoted to the Goddess. Indeed he would have been a priest of Valaya had he not been born a man. This chip on his shoulder he carries with a grumpy and combative air. The dozen tolerate him though as there are many of them that would not be there but for his quick needle and knowledge. There are others still who have been saved by his keen eye and sure shooting. Azrik takes himself very seriously and is proud of his talents. Vierlin, who enjoys "poking the bear" a little, started a rivalry for their shooting and while she sees it as a bit of fun, Azrik is deadly serious about being "the best".

Azrik Deadeye is a Dwarf Ranger with a hand weapon instead of greataxe. If Azrik is not removed as a casualty during a mission then any injury rolls for casualties can be rerolled if wished.

And there you have it, the first part of Dwalin's Dirty Dozen (as I've been calling them in lieu of a better name). Part two is later in the week and you can read more about the painting and modelling side of things over at Pirate Viking Painting. Next time, we meet the real weirdos: The Odd Squad.

TTFN

The Improbable Mission Force (part two)

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'Allo again Bunker dwellers! 'Tis I with more tales of Dwarfy derring-do and covert sneakiness. In part one we met the first, and most normal, half of Dwalin's Dirty Dozen. In part two we'll meet the slightly madder half in the form of the Odd Squad:


Something of a theme running through the Odd Squad is that a lot of them are criminals. Now some of you will be saying "but Jeff, when a Dwarf disgraces themselves they can't stand it and become a trollslayer". To which I reply, ah-hah! But those are the good Dwarfs, the proper Dwarfs who follow societies laws. The Dwarfs of the army book backstory are the ideal of Dwarfkind. There will always be wonky people. Monocultures are boring, if ever single Dwarf behaves in the way described in the book then they would be awfully bland. Instead I grant license for Dwarfs to be as nasty, backstabbing, thieving and generally naer-do-welling as any other race. They're just rarer. I went through the backstory of the 'Dozen last time so we'll just plunge on into the Odd Squad. Just like last time, it is gaming and fluff info here, painting and modelling info (and lots more pictures) over on Pirate Viking Painting (otherwise this post would have been about nine miles long).

Dofur Wayfinder and The Malkin
Dofur Wayfinder is a ratcatcher. In most societies a low status sort of affair, but in the closed subterranean world of the Dwarfs rodent control is a big deal. Ratcatchers aren't high status but are accorded a measure of respect. Dofur was good at his job and had risen to deputy head ratcatcher of all Barak Varr before the exodus. Sadly, Dofur also always had a couple of screws loose at the best of times. Gradually, over the years, Dofur became obsessed with the idea that the skaven - who all Dwarfs hate - grew from normal rats and this was how they infiltrated Dwarf holds. He took to secret experiments to prove his theory, his chambers filled with jars and vials containing the rodent wreckage of his failures. His obsession grew and others began to notice that the ever-twitchy Dofur was becoming properly unhinged. Something of an intervention among ratcatchers was planned, but when they entered his chambers to share their concerns his colleagues instead stood open mouthed in horror at the stinking, dissected remains of his "research". Rather than disgrace their friend, and realising that his mind really had gone, they tactfully suggested that should the Stormbournes find Karak Hoch they would need a really good ratcatcher to clear the hold and parcelled him off with the exodus.

The Stormbournes didn't really want this lunatic along but Stromni noticed that his talent for tracking rats back to their nests extended to all forms of tracking. Dofur found himself absorbed into the rangers - who didn't mind the smell of his ratcloak so much in the open air - and serves as their tracker. Along the way he has picked up a foul smelling cat of indeterminate gender and feral temper. Dofur believes the cat to be some spiritual ally in the war on the rats and refers to it as The Malkin. None of the other rangers can get near it without being clawed half to death so they just add it to the list of things that you need to tolerate about Dofur...

Dofur Wayfinder is a Dwarf Ranger. He lacks a crossbow but has an extra S2 attack at I3 for the Malkin savaging his enemies. He can follow trails and tracks, we usually use Initiative for this kind of thing but with a Dwarf's "I" he would be a rubbish tracker. Any suggestions gratefully recieved :) Considering inflicting him with frenzy vs skaven too...

Klaut Copperthumb
Klaut, and his daughter Lynta, are rather reluctant members of the Dozen. They are thieves and housebreakers, damn good ones too but with the misfortune to get caught just that one time... They had fled building trouble and suspicion in Barak Varr before it crashed down on them. Joining the Stormbourne Exodus, they had seen this as a secure way to relocate in the Empire and restart their careers there. Unfortunately, they were seen fleeing the scene of a quick smash-and-grab on a riverside tavern that the barges had moored near on the journey north. The proprietors complained to Hafnir of two Dwarfs robbing them, Hafnir in turn promised to find them. Following the suspicions still clinging to them from Barak Varr the Dwarf investigators quickly, and correctly, pinned the crime on the Copperthumbs. Dwalin Gravenrune (runesmith of the clan at that time) convinced Hafnir that indentured servitude would be an effective punishment - lacking as they did any form of prison and death seeming a little extreme. Dwalin was already thinking of the need for effective intelligence gathering and recognised that people who could break into homes (mostly) undetected could be useful. The pair have been given to Stromni as rangers and have proved useful in the often urban ranging the 'Dozen get up to.

Of the two, Klaut is the trapsmith and brains of the outfit. He excels at disabling alarms and traps without destroying them, leaving little evidence of the pair's passage. With his throwing axes and sharp dagger he covers Lynta while she deals with the more tricky locks...

Klaut is a Dwarf Ranger armed with hand weapon and throwing axes. He can test on his WS (manual dexterity) to disable traps that they find, failure sets them off instead.

Lynta Copperthumb
Raised by her Fagin-esque father, Klaut, to the vocation of thieving from birth, Lynta's sails were always kind of set. Her mother died during her birth so it was only her father's influence that guided her. To be fair, Lynta Copperthumb is a gifted and gleeful thief, she has had many opportunities to turn from the path but is just hooked on the thrill of being "on the job". She excells at the light, delicate tasks, those of the cutpurse and the lockpick. Since being dragooned into the rangers she has taken to using their signature crossbows to back up her father's axes. The pair's natural weapons though are stealth and caution. Lynta, more than her father, is taking to the life of the spy/ranger well and has no intention of leaving when their indentured service is over. She just hasn't told him that...

Lynta Copperthumb is a Dwarf Ranger with hand weapon rather than great weapon. She can use her WS to pick pockets and cut purses if necessary (failure means discovery) and can also pick locks in the same way. Failure just means a wasted turn.

Kowen Shadowfriend
In every military force, unless stringent measures are taken, there creeps in an element who are joining up because it is the only place they are allowed to kill people. Kowen Shadowfriend is one such as this. He joined the rangers in Barak Varr long before the exodus and followed Stromni north seeking more action. He's a dark and dangerous sort, tight lipped and withdrawn around the camp fire. It is only when deployed in his natural role as forward scout that Kowen comes alive. The other Rangers know this, see his bright eyes and feral grin when they go in to battle and try to corral his interests and natural talent where it will do some good. Kowen is usually used to silence sentries and clear the way for the main body of the rangers. While some might disable and gag sentries, Kowen somehow never finds the opportunity to do so. Everyone he is sent against ends up dead, usually with multiple precise and elegant knife wounds. Kowen is one of those people who you just don't talk about out of the field...

Kowen Shadowfriend is a Dwarf Ranger armed with two hand weapons instead of the normal greataxe and crossbow. His speed and reflexes grant him I3, few humans get more than a single slash at him before the end...

Morta the Fell
Wheras Kowen Shadowfriend found an outlet for the evil within him. Morta had no such luck. Until recently Morta was the landlady of a very rough tavern in the poor quarter of Barak Varr. Fights were common there and Morta was never afraid to wade in with a blackthorn club or a barstool to break it up. Then, one fatal night, she wrestled a dagger from a patron, one thing led to another and it wound up in the neck of it's former owner. The constabulary dismissed it correctly as self-defence but a dark, broken part of Morta's brain had awoken at the moment the knife bit flesh. From that point on, fights in the tavern seemed to get more and more violent, patrons were regularly knifing one another or killing in other ingenious ways, often both participants would die of their wounds before the constabulary could break it up. Somehow, Morta was always at the centre of it all, having "tried her best to stop them". The truth, of course, was that in Morta, the sick, black soul of a serial killer had awoken and worse, she had seen a way to get away with it. She might have kept it up for years had an off duty constable not been drinking in her tavern one night when a fight broke out. The constable didn't see any weapons on the patrons but somehow they both ended up dead. Questions started to be asked. Morta, seeing the writing on the wall, fled the city, joining up with the Stormbourne exodus that was in it's final stages. History may have repeated itself in Karak Hoch but for a chance meeting of like-minds. Morta met Kowen. Kowen recommended her to Stromni as another good blade to support him. The two are forming a dark and disturbing relationship that bears watching closely.

Morta the Fell is a Dwarf Ranger armed with two hand weapons instead of the normal greataxe and crossbow. Her talent for getting the critical hit in before her opponant grants her I3, few foes see Morta's blades before their blood is one them...

Roin ibn Korik ibn Altrek al-Wavefarer
The final member of the 'Dozen is certainly the oddest of the Odd Squad. Roin ibn Korik ibn Altrek al-Wavefarer (or Roin Wavefarer, son of Korik, son of Altrek to use the more normal Dwarven form) is an old, old friend of Braelin Barelip's. Roin was a sailor out of Barak Varr for years following a trade route from the dwarf lands to Araby. He liked Araby and eventually resettled there as a trade envoy of Barak Varr... and went a bit native. Worse, he always had a bit of a roguish air (he was friends with Braelin after all) and saw an opportunity to make a bit of easy coin. He raised a small crew and took to highly targetted piracy of ships leaving araby for the old world. This worked for a short while but ships come back to port eventually and word began to spread of a dwarf in Arabian dress and manner leading a pirate crew and, well, there weren't all that many suspects. Roin fled in his ship back to Barak Varr but just couldn't fit in there any more. His friend Braelin suggested that he abandon a stuffy old hold and come north with him and the Stormbournes. Sadly, even amongst the refugees of the Stormbournes he couldn't fit in and wound up where all the oddest Dwarfs end up: the rangers. Stromni saw the impressive skill Roin had with a blade but also his fast talking and disarming appearance and saw an opportunity. Roin often works as the "face" for the Rangers, drawing attention with some apparent business deal while the rangers do their work. In battle, his flashing blade is as useful as any other's but his devil-may-care attitude to armour makes the others shudder a bit.

Roin is a Dwarf Ranger with a hand weapon (scimitar) rather than the normal great weapon and crossbow. He wears no armour at all. Fortunately, his skill and the unfamiliar fighting style grant him +1 WS so he is tricky to hit, he also has a parry save despite not having a shield, so skilled a swordsman is he.

And with that, Dwalin's Dirty Dozen are all done! There are a couple of honorary members that we haven't mentioned yet, these two:


Braelin Barelip and Cedric the hapless halfling are often to be found amongst the rangers but aren't permanent members.

I've loved creating these guys, their stories are now ten times more interesting than they would have been as "just rangers" and I look forward to their antics even more. Hope you've enjoyed it. Remember, more pictures and nattering about painting and so on over at PVP.

TTFN

Battlefork Goffic

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We’re not dead! Two and a half years of weekly posting followed by almost two months of total silence... it probably seemed a bit out of sorts. And, perhaps, that’s because things were out of sorts (we all have our moments). But don't worry, this post isn’t about deep emotional stuff, it’s about orcs, and paint, and, and... spaceships.

Yeah that’s right. Spaceships.


Some of you will never have heard of Battlefleet Gothic, whereas some of you will, quite rightly, know it as Games Workshop’s Most Awesome Game. There may be people with other opinions, but they’re wrong.

It’s been years since I played BFG properly, mainly because there ain’t that many folks who realise that it’s the best game ever, and moreover it’s bloody hard to buy something that’s been out of print for ten years. That eBay still features over 160 listings for the game in the UK, though, speaks to its longevity.

Anyway my housemate Jon and I have been checking it out. Overcome with enthusiasm, I have scraped an ork fleet together. Oh my god, I’d forgotten how quick it can be to paint a fleet. This lot got done last weekend:


I haven’t used them yet, although I expect it will be amusing, what with ork ships being flappingly useless at anything other than flying straight forwards and hitting like a brick. Moving left? Nah. Engaging at range? Nah. Passing leadership tests ever? Zog it.

They’re going to get mashed, and frankly, I’ll deserve it after the hobby-ruining hurt I lay down on people with my eldar fleet as a spotty teenager.

If you’re curious to know how these dudes were painted, I just drybrushed them with chainmail and then threw in three different shades of rust weathering powder before drybrushing black soot onto the tails and painting the glowy rokkitts/go fasta holes/endjinns in orange (I know, I know, they look yellow in the pics).

You may also be wondering why they're all so rusty, since space isn't famous for its high oxygen content. Well, (a) I like orange, (b) ork escorts go down planetside to drop off troops, (c) I imagine orks do a good deal of building planetside, since I imagine ork space suits aren't up to much.

Fearsum Endjinns

How are the engines so bright? Because they were painted white first and then tinted with orange and yellow. If you want it to be bright, no amount of basecoating over black will get the same effect.

Now as much as I’ve sung its praises, BFG does have one pitfall: spaceships are inherently less relatable than little dudes, a problem which Jon and I are countering by creating characters for our leaders and captains just as we do for the Fantasy campaign we’re playing. So far it’s made things much more juicy.


Many, many thanks to James, whose models these used to be. I hope you approve of what I’ve done with them. I’ll shortly be adding 9 more escorts and another kroozer, because yes.

It's big, it's killy, and it's got extra boosters on the side. My inner speed freak
is getting foamy with anticipation.

Finally ,and perhaps more spiritually, I shall leave you all with an orkish space chant lifted straight from the BFG rulebook (to be intoned when hitching onto space hulks):

’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go,
’Ere we go, ’ere we go, throo the cosmos.
’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go,
’Ere we go, ’ere we go, throo infinity.

 ’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go,
’Ere we go, don’t know where ’til we get there.


~Charlie

Character Creation for Inquisitor

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Aside from shooting stuff in the face with my shiny rusty new second hand ork fleet, I've primarily been preparing for a few role playing games. Specifically, I'm running a one-day Inquisitor scenario in the next few weeks.

I say 'Inquisitor'... that's not technically true, in that we're not playing a narrative skirmish wargame. It's more like the 40K roleplaying game Dark Heresy, in that the gamers are each playing an agent in the employ of an Imperial Inquisitor, but then... it's not Dark Heresy because whilst its production values and content are excellent, I find the game mechanics long-winded.

Instead, we're using 20Eight (i.e. the barebones game engine I've been working on for the last year or so). I'm excited to use it in a futuristic context to see how well it holds up. We've hitherto played plenty of fantasy, and that's been great, but fantasy doesn't have guns, spaceships, and them funny-looking spehs ayliurrrns.

The original Inquisitor cover art.
Because yes.
Having put myself in GM mode, the first port of call was to send everyone a character pack. This is essentially a questionnaire to help people come up with an interesting character. In this particular case, though, I had a problem: three out of five players have no real experience or knowledge of the 40K universe.

Oh, crap.

40K is not a setting whose appeal can be got across in a single sentence, at least, not the flavour of 40K I like. One fan might summarise it as 'baroque dystopian pastiche' whilst another might say 'CHAINSWORDS FOR THE CHAINSWORD GOD.' In both cases, you have to be a fan already for that to mean much. Although chainswords are pretty hilarious, to be fair.

Either way, this meant I had to come up with a character pack that'd give people enough flavour to create something, without trying so hard to explain everything that it's 59,239,832,892 pages long.

Then I remembered that pictures tell between 750-1,250 words apiece. At this point, it's possible I got a little carried away. Here's a screenshot of the completed pack:


Having finally finished it, a thought occurred to me: that this could be a useful resource for anyone else running Inquisitor, Dark Heresy or of course Inq28. For one thing, I've collated a lot of very pretty pictures, many of them from Fantasy Flight Games, who make excellent stuff. For another, it contains a questionnaire which is designed to help players create an interesting character.

Thus, I shall transpose said character pack onto this blog. I've taken out references to 20Eight within the descriptions, since a) the rules aren't ready for public release and b) in no way is 20Eight affiliated with any particular game system, so whilst I'm combining someone's IP with my game in the privacy of my own home, I'm not crazy enough to release such an adaptation on the Internet!

As you might expect this character pack is lengthy, so if you wish to read on, you'll have to hit the jump. I'm afraid I can't do nice pretty layout like I did in the pack my players got, because Blogger's a bit more basic than Word. I'm sure you'll get over it.


INQUISITOR
[ CHARACTER CREATION ]

Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus

It is the 41st millennium. The Imperium of mankind stretches from one end of the galaxy to the other, a million worlds unified by the Adeptus Terra for the last ten thousand years. 

In the vastness of the galaxy, mankind’s worlds are just scattered grains of sand on a black canvas. Alien fleets prey on unsuspecting colonies, and servants of the dark gods slaughter Imperial citizens in their billions. 

Many if not most Imperial citizens live out their lives quite unaware of these cataclysmic threats. Whilst at any given moment there are thousands of wars being fought around the galaxy, the vast majority of the Imperium’s worlds are free of the threat of invasion. 

This does not mean they are safe. 

Daemon-worshipping cults, alien technology and rogue psykers all pose threats quite capable of damning an entire planet, and these threats cannot be defeated by the Imperium’s armies. 

They are faced, instead, by the men and women of the Inquisition.

The mere mention of the Inquisition is enough to make most Imperial citizens glance over their shoulder in fear. An Inquisitor’s authority is absolute, superseding that of a planetary governor, fleet admirals, generals of the Guard, and the judges of the Adeptus Arbites. 

How they use this authority varies greatly. Some Inquisitors work in secret, ensuring their enemies remain ignorant of their plans until it is too late, whilst others work overtly by temporarily assuming command of local law enforcement, military assets, and anything else they need to hound their quarry. 

Inquisitors also vary in personality, origins, and philosophy. Indeed, the only thing any two Inquisitors tend to have in common is that they carry an Inquisitorial rosette: their badge of office. A rosette can actually take a number of forms, most often pendants, signet rings, scrolls, or badges of office kept out of sight in a coat pocket.

Inquisitors rarely work alone. Even the most secretive operatives have a small team of allies, whereas others might have hundreds of agents in their employ. 

You are one such agent, newly recruited in the service of Inquisitor Vilem Kovach of the Ordo Hereticus, in the Cetus sub-sector of the Segmentum Pacificus.


It is a remote sector, far from ancient Terra. Inquisitor Kovach is one of relatively few Inquisitors in the area, and is therefore heavily reliant on his agents. It is his hope that one day, you and others in his organisation might become Inquisitors in your own right, thus swelling the ranks of the Ordos Pacificus.

For information on the region in which you are working, go to:


The bad news is that the above link is a bit minimalist. The good news is that if your character is originally from this area of space, you are welcome to add in details. Just talk them through with me, and I’ll add them to the wiki!

And now, onwards... to your character. You are new to the Inquisition and are about to embark on your first mission for Inquisitor Kovach. You are already accomplished or remarkable in some way – otherwise you’d be just another spod among the teeming masses! The question is, what makes you so terribly special?

To aid you in answering that question, there are three sections on the pages that follow. The first provides some broad character concepts. The second will help you decide what sort of world you come from, and the third section is designed to help you flesh out your character. After that, it’s time to fill your character sheet out! Or, if you prefer, you can just answer all the questions and then get me to fill it out instead. Whatever, really.



Archetypes

Noble

Highly educated and schooled in hunting, fencing and marksmanship, you are the perfect all-rounder. Your patron Inquisitor will have spent time schooling you in arcane lore to supplement your already extensive education, and will ensure that you have received additional combat training to mitigate your lack of field experience.

Nobles have slightly higher knowledge than average, but aren't as brave as someone with field experience.



Mercenary

Years of fighting for the highest bidder have taught you all the dirty tricks a ‘proper’ soldier is too honourable to employ. You aren’t here to be nice, you’re here to get the job done. Whilst you’re brutally effective in a fight, you don’t know much about ‘weird’ stuff. Whatever it is, it won’t enjoy getting shot. Or stabbed. Or blown up.

Higher combat skills, resilience and courage are offset by appalling mental stats.



Techpriest

As a priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, you can fix, alter or dismantle anything (although dismantling machines might make you unhappy). 

As you gain in rank, you may hope to become closer to your god—the Omnissiah—by replacing more and more of your weak human flesh with bionics. 

Culturally, you are far removed from your fellow humans. For one thing, it’s much faster to communicate in binary code via your transmission implants, but the common citizenry insist on speaking Low Gothic instead. 

You can choose to specialise in any scientific field, from the intricacies of interstellar craft to the equally fascinating mechanisms of the human vascular system. 

Excellent knowledge of machinery and/or your chosen scientific area, as well as bionically enhanced strength and toughness. On the flipside, techpriests have poor combat skills and reflexes, as well as sub-par social skills and resilience to psychic attack.




Bounty Hunter

If you can’t find the target, no-one can. Your tracking skills are as sharp as your nose for danger, and the doggedness with which you chase up leads makes you extremely useful to the Inquisition. You might even have done work for an Inquisitor before without realising it.

What you lack in straight-up combat effectiveness you make up for with decent skill in tracking, trapping, piloting and detective work.

As to your background? Anyone’s guess. Your career attracts folks from all walks of life. The more honourable among your fellow agents may well be suspicious of you, though. If you’re so skilled in apprehending people, why didn’t you go into law enforcement? 

Was it for profit, or something even less savoury?

Mild buffs to knowledge, reflexes and gunplay come at an equally mild reduction in resilience, persuasiveness and psychic resistance.



Savant

Ignorance might be lauded as the surest way to righteousness by hard-line puritans, but Inquisitor Kovach is no fool, and knows that a deft mind is just as crucial as a strong sword arm in the pursuit of heretics.

As a gifted scholar, you hold knowledge to be a reward unto itself. Since joining the ranks of the Inquisition, you have been permitted to learn about things that most citizens have never even heard of, including pariahs, psychic phenomena, xenobiology, aetheric theory, and the histories of the Inquisition’s Ordos—almost everything, in fact, except the jealously-guarded secrets of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Perhaps, with the right connections, you’ve even learned some of those.

Another vital skill you possess is that of translator. Reading such varied texts requires familiarity with the different permutations of Low Gothic found throughout Imperial space, and sometimes, this will mean you’re the only member of the team capable of speaking to the locals.

Of course, all these weighty matters leave you with little time to worry about such trivial matters as personal fitness or, indeed, which end of a laspistol to hold.

Incredible knowledge, intelligence and mild resistance to psykers are offset by weaknesses on pretty much every other stat you've got.



Priest

Heed nothing but the Cult Imperialis! Love the Emperor, and pray for His mercy! Abhor the witch, the mutant, the alien and the heretic, for they are unclean!

Such has been your creed ever since you set out from the shrines of the Adeptus Ministorum to carry the Imperial faith to cratered battlefields and the foetid depths of underhive slums.

Your unwavering faith and oratory skills inspire your allies, weaken the malefic, and may even allow you to endure great pain, all whilst cutting something evil in half with a chainsword.

Priests have increased resilience, persuasiveness, courage and resistance to psykers, although they're fairly dreadful with ranged weapons and don't score well on the general knowledge front.



Pilot

You’ve spent as much of your life as possible at the helm of anything that flies, honing your reactions and learning how to get the most out of your vehicle. Good pilots are essential for the Inquisition; the fate of an entire team of highly trained operatives often rests in a single pair of hands.

Your quick reflexes might also make you a dab hand in a gunfight, and you’ve probably picked up a thing or two from the tech adepts (they won’t have realised you were watching so closely).

You're going to ace pretty much anything to do with flying a ship, and you've got excellent reflexes, but your knowledge of things outside of a cockpit is limited, as is your persuasiveness and resilience to psychic attack.



Inquisitorial Stormtrooper

Orphaned at a young age, you were taken in by the Schola Progenium and trained as a stormtrooper. You are tough, lethal, and psychologically conditioned to endure the worst the galaxy has to throw at you.

Of course, this makes it hard to think outside the confines of your training, but then, why would you?

One therefore has to wonder why Inquisitor Kovach has requested that you, specifically, be taken from your squad mates to serve in his personal retinue.

Hellguns, a high-powered variant of the common lasrifle, are the signature weapon of a stormtrooper, and they are as temperamental as they are lethal. As such, you have had to become adept at maintaining your own equipment, and in addition to your combat skills, you may find that your fellow agents have no idea how to field strip a plasma pistol, or how to rig demo charges properly.

Some of them haven’t even jumped out of a valkyrie assault carrier in mid-air or abseiled down the side of a hive spire. Unbelievable.

Solid combat skills and courage come in exchange for the sort of mental stats you'd expect from a psychologically conditioned jarhead.




Sister of the Adepta Sororitas

You have devoted your life to the God-Emperor and the Ecclesiarchy. The very sight of you inspires spiritual fervour. That’s not always a good thing; it’s hard to know how to control a crowd when you’ve spent your life in a convent! 

You might have been a battle sister participating in holy wars, or a member of the Orders Hospitaller tending to the sick (both on the battlefield and off). It will have taken something dramatic to make you leave the company of your sisters and join Inquisitor Kovach. You might have been outcast for being too much of a thinker, or maybe you’re the last survivor of your order. Perhaps the Emperor has blessed you with a vision, and your Canoness has allowed you to leave the convent to pursue it.

Equipment: the Adepta Sororitas wear power armour, making them virtually immune to small arms fire.

Bravery, resilience to psykers and decent skill with bolt weaponry or medicae techniques are yours in exchange for sub-par knowledge and social skills.



Sanctioned Psyker

At some point early on in your life, the authorities identified you as a psyker and sent you to your planet’s Scholastia Psykana to be assessed. You were screened for warp-taint, tested for strength of will, and then trained for five years so that your unnatural abilities might be of use to the Imperium. Those of inferior skill to you were taken away by the Black Ships of the Inquisition. Most never returned.

Following your basic training, you were given a choice: join the Imperial Guard as a Primaris battle-psyker, or join the Inquisition as an agent. You have chosen the latter.

Psykers vary greatly, but broadly speaking, they choose their powers from the following disciplines:

Pyromancy: manipulate fire.
Biomancy: manipulate biological energy and processes.
Telepathy: contacting and controlling the minds of others.
Telekinesis: convert psychic energy into a physical force.
Divination: predict the future and delve into the past.
Daemonology: banish daemons and unleash the warp itself.
Theosophamy: use careful rituals to confound daemons and seal breaches in the veil.

Your fellow citizens now look upon you with fear and suspicion; the ignorant often assume that you are one violent sneeze away from daemonic possession. You might still wear the robes of the Scholastia, making it clear you are no witch, or you might dress as everyone else to maintain the element of surprise. 

Solid knowledge and high willpower come at a slight cost to all other stats.



Adeptus Arbites Judge

To the people of the Imperium, you are the law. The law is fair. The law does not make mistakes. The law is enabled to carry out sentencing at the scene of the crime, because the law has been equipped with a combat shotgun. The law understands that you may take issue with your sentence, and this is why the law has been supplied with extra ammunition.

In the event that the law is murky on the details, the law will arrest you and ask you questions. If the law is satisfied with your answers, you may leave.

The law will probably not pay for your grav-taxi.

The Emperor’s most holy Inquisition has found the law to have slightly more imagination than a mercenary, and slightly less irritating free-spiritedness than a bounty hunter. The law is now dispensing justice to things with horns, and the law is pleased.

The law has good aim. Unfortunately, the law hasn't had much experience of psykers before.



Pit fighter

Whilst abhorred on many worlds, bloodsports are not uncommon in the Imperium. Screaming fans have bet on your life, or your death, and until recently you were someone else’s property.

Whilst the means by which you could have ended up in Inquisitor Kovach’s retinue are many and varied, there is one certainty: you are here because you are lethal in hand-to-hand combat.

Perhaps you were trained, or perhaps you just have excellent instincts. It doesn’t matter. You could build a small hill out of the heads you’ve taken.

It’s probably hard not to look at your fellow agents like they’re soft. 

Incredible melee skills, decent reflexes, as well as solid strength and toughness, but poor aim and mental stats.



Pariah

Fortune has always eluded you. It’s been said you just rub people up the wrong way. Even your parents grew irritable in your presence, no matter what you tried.

There is a reason for this: you have an incredibly rare birth defect which means you have no presence in the warp. Even the dullest mind will have some imperceptible flame, but you have nothing. To put it more bluntly, you have no soul.

The psychic null zone thus created makes you anathema to psykers and daemons.

This makes you extremely useful to the Inquisition, who view your mutation as a gift more than a curse. You might have been recruited early on in your life, or you might have struggled along far into adulthood before being identified. Either way, you are now an agent of the Inquisition. Your fellow agents, particularly the psykers, might find it hard to hold a conversation with you, but they all know how vital you are to the business of witch hunting.

Any attempt to cast a psychic power within three yards of a pariah will automatically fail, as will any psychic power targeting anything within three yards of them.



Imperial Guard Veteran

Almost a third of the soldiers sent into active warzones do not survive the first hour of active combat. 

You have survived a decade.

Unlike the psychologically conditioned and well-equipped stormtroopers of the schola progenium, your survival depended on wits and creativity.

It’s hard to say if you could return to civilian life at this point. You’re either too addicted to the adrenaline rush, or too haunted to settle into a quiet life. You might be the perfect team player, directing the less tactically minded agents in fire fights, or perhaps you’re so used to your friends getting shot that you’re completely self sufficient, vanishing into cover at the first sign of trouble and striking only when you’ve got the right angle. Either way, you’re familiar with a wide range of weapons, and might even sport some grisly trophies taken from fallen foes.

Solid aim, above-average melee skills and reflexes, and high courage, but poor mental stats.





Homeworld

Deciding what sort of place your character grew up in has no specific effect in the game’s rules, but is a huge part of your character’s identity. In a setting featuring a million worlds, this section will necessarily deal in the broadest of brushstrokes, and the cultural traits described should be taken purely as stereotypes.


Within reason, any class can be from any world – feel free to combine things as you wish – but some combinations are counter-intuitive at best. Being from a feral world limits your options quite significantly, whereas almost anything goes if you grew up in somewhere as varied as a hive city.

And now, without further adieu... 

Civilised World

Like the bulk of Imperial worlds, your home planet was largely self-sufficient, with an even mix of agriculture and industry. Some regions were quite poor and utilised cheap mutant labour, but for the most part, people are well looked after, and at the least, you will have been provided with a basic education.

Culturally, your world is extremely diverse, even though the globalised economy is run centrally by the Adeptus Administratum and ruled over by the Planetary Governor.



Hive World

When the cities of your world ran out of room to grow outwards, they started growing upwards. After millennia of pollution and overpopulation, your world is entirely incapable of producing enough food to feed its own population, and must use its extensive industries to trade with nearby systems.

The heights of the hive spires reach up to the stratosphere, and the depths of the underhive slums sink deep into the continental crust.

Whilst your world’s nobles live in spire mansions, the bulk of the populace live in crowded hab blocks, and the poorest live in utter squalor. Gang violence in the lower levels is rife.

You find it hard to deal with silence, and find the press of the crowd to be comforting. You’re used to the presence of advanced technology.




Feral World

Your ancestors arrived on this world in the old times, borne on sky chariots. You fight other tribes for land and livestock. That is how it has always been; your tribe will endure so long as the Sun-Emperor wills it.

Once in a generation, emissaries come on behalf of the Sun-Emperor, and the greatest of the warriors are uplifted, along with the witch kin. It is said that one day, the emissaries will stop coming, and on that day, the end times will begin.



Void Born

There’s nothing so reassuring as the omnipresent hum of a ship’s reactor.

Your complexion is incredibly pale, and a lifetime spent surrounded by sailors has left you with a wide (some would say ridiculous) array of superstitions.

Adjusting to normal gravity is always something of an effort, and often leaves you nauseous, but then, others say the same of artificial grav.



Warzone

Even when the front was hundreds of miles away, food was rationed and martial law brooked no frivolity. The government exists only to enact the will of the military, and a failure to meet manufacturing or food production quotas could result in the deaths of millions. Unsurprisingly, the experience has made you stoic (some would say unsympathetic).





Shrine World

Your home planet is ruled by the Ecclesiarchy. Ritual and dogma have been drilled into you from birth. Every city features cathedrals built in honour of martyrs and saints, and the population brook no deviation from the Cult Imperialis.

Your world attracts billions of pilgrims every year, all of whom gaze in wonder at the immaculately carved shrines, the mosaics on the pavements, and the prayer banners hanging from the boughs of the arboretums.



Agri-world

Sparsely-populated and strategically vital, your world is rich in the resources needed to farm on a macro-industrial scale, exporting foodstuffs to those worlds too industrialised to feed themselves.

Upon learning of your origins, people will expect you to be backwards, though in truth high levels of technology are often needed to reliably produce so much food every single year. The exact nature of your world’s output could vary wildly; some agri-worlds are primarily oceanic, some have the perfect climate for grox herding. Others might produce nutritious algal slime, whilst others feature nothing but endless grain fields. Most, however, are a mixture of all these things.



Forge World

It is the Adeptus Mechanicus of Mars, not the Adeptus Terra, that claim lordship over your birthplace. Your world is one of the most strategically vital in the Imperium. It is the birthplace of Titans. A million tanks roll off the production lines every day. Countless orbital weapons batteries protect the shipyards, and the night sky is lit up by a constant stream of traffic.

Other than visitors, there are only three kinds of people on a forge world: tech-adepts, serfs, and Skitarii – the mechanically augmented soldiers who protect the Forge. Of all these the serfs are the least grandiose, but it’s quite possible the adepts would forget to eat regular meals without them.

Surprisingly, forge worlds are often nowhere near as polluted as hive worlds, primarily because the priesthood capture emissions and recompress the carbon into a number of useful materials.



Fine tuning

Having settled on an archetype and a place of origin, it's time to put some flesh on the bones. If you can answer all of these questions, you’ll know you're pretty much there. If you can’t answer all of them, then perhaps chatting about it with the GM or the other players might get some ideas flowing.

The Basics
Answer in one or two words.

Name (including nicknames):
Concept/profession:
What is your greatest quality?
What is your greatest flaw?
How old are you?
Describe your build.
Describe your body language.
Describe your looks.
How strong are you?
How tough are you?
How quick are your reflexes?
How easily do you scare?

Personality
Feel free to be as brief or as verbose as you like from here on in.

What is your greatest virtue/redeeming feature? (expand on your answer from the basics)
What is your greatest weakness/flaw? (expand on your answer from the basics)
How do other people see you? [demeanour, perceptions, etc]
How would you like yourself to be perceived? 
Describe where or what you’d like to be in ten years’ time.
What makes you happy?
What makes you angry?
What are you afraid of?
What do you believe? (religion, general world view. Keep it simple.)


Background
Describe your family.
Where did you grow up?
Describe your education.
Describe your pre-Inquisition career. 
How did you end up in Inquisitor Kovach’s service?


Skills/disabilities
List two things at which you’re brilliant (e.g. piloting, shooting, cooking, dressage, negotiating)
List three things at which you’re pretty good.
List two things at which you’re utterly lame.

Note: Just because it’s not in your character’s description doesn’t mean that they can’t do it or don’t know about it. We assume most people know how to use a doorhandle or use a kettle; the character’s description is there to get their defining traits rather than the totality of their being.


The optional extra mile
If there are other things you want to add, feel free! In no way should you feel like you can’t add flavoursome detail to your character just because it didn’t fit neatly into one of the questions above.


Equipment
Now that you know your character, you can decide what equipment and weapons they have (if any). If you’re not all that familiar with the 40K mythos, ask your GM if there are any shiny toys your character could take if they wanted them.

+++END FILE+++

That's it folks! I hope that's helpful. What other things would you add to the questionnaire at the end? And if there are any other things you'd change, I'd be curious to hear them too.

~Charlie

Space pixies... evil ones.

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Dark Eldar are famous for many things: spikes, pain, spikes, topknots, spikes... the list goes on. What they are not famous for is being conducive to last-minute paint jobs. It’s all those smooth, crisp lines. Most experienced hobbyists would not, therefore, try to paint a squad of five of them and a six-man hive gang and a character model the night before they’re due to be used.

To do something like that, you’d have to resemble the end of a bell.

Konk, konk.



I spent hours and hours on that bloody character development pack, and hours more on painting one of the agents participating in the Inq28 scenario. The other twelve models got an evening (and a good chunk of the next morning whilst waiting for everyone to arrive).

The added challenge? The Dark Eldar were a secret. It’s not easy to keep a secret when you’re painting at the dining table and live with two of the people playing in the fudging scenario. Bless ’em, they did a fine job of looking the other way when told to, and my hands were frequently used as a shield too.

In case you’re wondering how I painted the armour, it was drybrushed chainmail and then given a glaze of equal parts blue ink, green ink, and Lahmian medium. That's it. I had no time for highlighting, so just moved straight on to the other details.


They were also good fun to use in a roleplay scenario. By way of example, the leader’s phantasm grenade launcher covered the area in inky black hallucinogenic smoke, which made it a little trickyfor the protagonists to keep track of where she was. It ain’t a fight with Eldar unless they’re right proper gittish.



I might go over the actual scenario when I’ve finished basing the agents (and thus can accompany said description with pretty pictures). Rather than running a big long narrative, we’re taking it in turns to GM single, day-long standalone missions. Much easier to manage when some of the players have to travel big distances to play, see.

It’s nice to have finally done something with the Cetus sub-sector setting that Jeff designed aaaages ago. I just need to remember to update the wiki with the new stuff I just pulled out of my brain-meats, so that the setting can grow. Organically. Like a tumour.


~Charlie

Soopa speedy Imperial Guard paint scheme

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As much as I’m not that keen on the current edition of 40K, our recent foray into Inquisitor means that my enthusiasm for the 40K mythos has crept back in, like a nervous and recently-evicted lover, scared that they’re only going to be inside the nice warm house for minutes rather than years.

Part of this enthusiasm is contingent upon not being subjected to endless numbers of Spehs Mahreens. As such, I found myself contemplating the Imperial Guard (or Astra Vauxhaulius, depending on which bit of the Imperium you're from). Those of you with an elephant's memory may remember the test model. Finally, I’ve had a go at some more.



Now, everyone who’s ever tried to make a Guard army will remember the slog. You need a lot of little plastic dudes. As usual, one must strike a balance between speed and quality... the speed in this case being less than two hours to paint a tank.

The tracks were weathered with a light brown drybrush followed by
Typhus Corrosion, because paint + texture = amazeballs.

If G-Dubz had never brought out Caliban Green spray, this army couldn’t exist. I’m just too lazy. But with said spray? It’s on. It’s on like 0.3 standard Imperial units of Donkey Kong.

The matte effect the spray provides is perfect for spray-painted metal plates, which means that my priming spray is also half the work done. Well, I say half... more like a tenth. But still, it’s a bloody quick tenth!

After spraying, the fatigues are painted Vallejo olive green and the webbing’s painted Vallejo Green Grey, after which Athonian Camoshade gets sloshed over both. The black parts of the gun are painted with black ink (so it’s a little shinier than paint would be) and then the guns and armour get weathered with silver. All that’s left is to paint the boots black, plus skin and bases. Another advantage of the green undercoat is that the black on the boots doesn’t look as dark and harsh as it would over a black undercoat.



Remaining challenges include finding a quick method of painting dark skin that doesn’t look lifeless. Further research required... this is, I’m sure, one of the reasons why dark skin is so uncommon in wargaming models – it’s hard to do as quickly and effectively as lighter skin tones. I’m willing to put up with this in most Warhammer armies because it’s meant to be like medieval Europe but with more skullzz, but when it comes to 40K there’s no excuse for the relentless whitewash. In the finished Guard project I hope to have a fairly even spread of skin tones... and a relatively even spread of gender. Some of you may be wondering how I’ll manage the gender. I do have a plan on that front; you’ll just have to wait and see!

When sliced up into individual pouches, it turns out those trios of pouches
you get on the space marine sprue work really well on Guardsmen.

So, what do you think? A bit too lazy, or serviceable? If you’d do anything differently, drop a comment down below. It’s not too late for me to take any solid suggestions on board.

And finally, a (very brief) update on how things are going for the Empire in our Hochland campaign:


My state troops needed 4+. Poor sods.


~Charlie

The Hochland Gazette [Issue 2]

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Almost a year ago, I wrote issue 1 of the Hochland Gazette. Mainly because I fancied a bit of a giggle. I've now written issue 2 in the wake of a particularly stupid battle between Maisey and I. You see, I accidentally won a 3,500-point game after a regiment of flagellants failed their frenzy check. Yes, really.


If you want the 'authentic' medieval paper-reading experience, feel free to do so by clicking on the image above. If you're less of a masochist and/or gothic font fetishist, here is the legible version:

THE HOCHLAND GAZETTE
Published by Ernst Drucker & Sons of Tussenhof on 20th Vorhexen 2255 I.C.
Containing the surest news and firmest advice every Angestag & Aubentag
[ Price: 4 shillings ]



Fanatical cult slay zombie dragon!

Gruyden village safe; Hochland’s army “on top form,” says Ludenhof. The village of Gruyden, famed for having shrine to all the gods (old and new), has once again come under attack by the restless dead. Konrad the Bastard, infamous for destroying the beautiful town of Krudenwald, made his second attempt on Gruyden (the first attempt having been held off by the noble sacrifice of the town watch).

The Bastard’s minions were seen to be converging on Gruyden by a Kislevite scout, who sent word to Fort Schippel. General von Hess rode out in force, and it was just as well, for when the dead emerged from the forest, it became apparent that Konrad is but a minion of a greater evil: a queen of the night emerged, sat astride the rotting neck of an undead dragon!

Many among the army were said to be dismayed upon sighting the beast and its rider, but von Hess ordered the line to hold whilst the cannons did their work. Naturally, the soldiery had no difficulty in doing as they were told.

The same could not be said of the Real New Church of the Truth, a rabble of flagellants who had attached themselves to the army despite being ordered to return to their homes.

Shortly after the first cannon volley, observers say, the flagellants burst forward in great excitement, making for the zombies advancing before the dragon... thus putting themselves twixt gun and target. Most expected the cult to disappear into the enemy ranks, but to the shock (and delight) of all, they battled through twice their number, reached the dragon in short order and, calling upon Sigmar for guidance, threw themselves upon the beast, overwhelming it with flails and suicidal zealoutry.

The gazette humbly approached General von Hess for comment. “We are of course very grateful to this religious group for their sacrifice. Their self-appointed prophet has survived the battle, and is somewhat disorientated by the world’s failure to come to an end. He has informed me that he is to return to his previous occupation as a cabbage farmer, and frankly, I’m glad to hear it. Hochland needs all the food it can get.”

Some commentators have suggested that without the flagellants’ aid, the army would surely have been defeated. Count Ludenhof himself has publicly rejected this claim.

Writing to the Gazette, our Elector Count argued, “hardened by two long years of combat, the army’s troops are on top form. In the absence of this cult, the cannons would have got the job done. Much as I admire the group’s bravery, their self-sacrifice saddens me given that another two cannonballs would have had the task well in hand. I second General von Hess’ suggestion that the production of food should be the priority, rather than leaving one’s home to join one of these fringe cults roving the countryside.”
The Gazette holds this to be sound advice indeed.

Over the page: we sit down over a well-stocked cheese board to talk to Magister Thaddeus Krey of the Light College to discuss his part in the battle, and how he made Konrad the Bastard suffer.

Amelia von Lessing missing (again)
The amethyst wizard has once again been abducted, although the army are remaining tight-lipped as to the details. There are rumours that it has something to do with the beast-men of Hergig, but the court in Tussenhof has refused to comment. More on this story as we learn it.

Priesthood of Morr refuse to condone cremation
With the plague of undeath in its second year, many have argued that continuing our tradition of burying the dead is merely providing our enemy with new recruits, but the Priesthood of Morr have refused to preside over any funerary rites that involve cremation. The spirit needs a body if it is to travel safely to Morr’s realm, they tell us, and the unsupervised burning of loved ones may result in hauntings and other such phenomena. If you wish to avoid such horrors, make sure you are paid up with your local priest today!

Elsewhere in this edition...
+Removing the head, or destroying the brain, page 5: a guest author from the Order of Witch Hunters provides advice for defending your home against a zombie attack (the good news is that woodcutter’s axes are most effective against frozen heads).
+Growing winter vegetables? Turn to page 9 for new ways to cook turnips.


+ + +

And now for some hideously incompetent photos of said battle:

Initial deployment
The Real New Church of the Truth are on the left.
They are about to fail a frenzy check.

The flagellants' unexpected charge meant that suddenly, I was committed. On turn two. I had to make them last as long as possible, and to that end, I threw in a long-range Wyssan's Wildform from Febe. She miscast, and wounded both herself, my wizard lord, and two warrior priests, but I can't complain, since it resulted in the flagellants killing 35 zombies on the charge for negligible losses. The remaining zombies crumbled, and the flagellants overran into the zombie dragon, meaning they got to fight the dragon during Maisey's turn two.

The dragon was killed before it even got to strike, and the undead army - once they lost their necromancer thanks to Thaddeus'Net of Amyntok - started to crumble. We called it at the end of game turn three, because we'd gotten to the point of mop-up combats like the one below, which shows a horde of greatswords about to charge twenty zombies.


To be fair, the vampires' left flank was still going strong, with a vampire, a varghulf and a regiment of black knights doing what they do best, and Maisey gets serious kudos for being incredibly gentlemanly about the whole thing (probably because both of us knew it to be a complete farce). Hopefully there'll be a rematch before long, and he'll have a stab at revenge. Lord knows I deserve it.

~Charlie

Warhammer: Age of Retconning

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It’s both interesting and exciting to see Games Workshop (or G-Dubz, if you’re keeping it real) venturing into new territory with their series Warhammer: The End Times, but this leaves the Beard Bunker’s Hochland campaign setting in a weird place.

For anyone unfamiliar with the Warhammer setting, the last big event in its chronology was the Storm of Chaos,and we decided to set our own story immediately after it. The most recent edition of Warhammer dialled the clocks back to the years just before this event, but they never officially retconned it.

That changed with the release of Warhammer: the End Times.

Nagash and his top had get right up in someone's shi.

Our little cul-de-sac of the Old World is now not only beyond Warhammer’s timeline, but mutually exclusive with it. For some reason, this made me feel weird. Apparently I have some deep-seated nerd phobia of doing anything that contradicts the official canon. This is pretty dumb, since said canon has been changed more times than an incontinent pensioner’s Y-fronts.

In a weird way, this ousting from canon-friendly land has given me the shove I needed.

Since we can’t integrate the studio’s output with our setting, we’ll have to just cherry-pick whichever bits of the End Times seem like fun. The return of Nagash? Fun. Bringing back Archaon? Nah, dude’s already been defeated in our story.

Nagash in his evening wear. I e-mailed the GW studio with my manuscript for
Warhammer: the Spirit of Jazz, but they haven't responded at time of writing.

Another added bonus of this enforced freedom is that I feel free to fix things. Not that many things, but still... stuff like the orc and vampire involvement in the Storm of Chaos? Gone, as far as I’m concerned. Never made much sense anyway.

The Hochland campaign itself has now been running for about a year and a half. Well, I say campaign... the phrase ‘persistent storyworld’ still feels more appropriate, since there’s no specific end goal-- I digress. The important thing is that it’s up to each player to decide what they want to do in the sandbox. To this end, there are two excellent things on the horizon:

The Coven
Maisey’s long-term goal for his vampires has always been to take the Brass Keep out of Norse hands. That’s why he captured Hovelhof up in northern Hochland (to use as a base of operations) and that’s why Phillippe spent months exploring the Middle Mountains. Centuries ago the Keep was home to a great necromancer, and if you’re going to be the big bad, you need a big bad castle (Hovelhof just isn’t plush enough apparently).

For ages, we all wondered how Maisey would do this. No other faction had an interest in the Brass Keep, and sure, there were Chaos players (both Emma and Nick) but neither of them laid claim to the fortress. So who would Maisey fight? Himself? “Well played, me, looks like I won.”

Well if a wargame isn’t the right way to tell the story, he figured we could use another method. He’s planning to GM a roleplay scenario for three of us, each playing one of the vampires in the coven, in which we have to try and complete some eeeeevil ritual he’s concocting. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be glorious. How could pretending to be a French vampire not be glorious? My only worry is that GCSE French has not adequately prepared me for this role.
“Philippe, I want you and Etienne to find me the Dagger of Wounded Souls.”
“Ou est la piscine?”
“What?”
“Et aussi la bibliotheque?”
“Just get me the ----ing dagger.”
“Gérard Depardieu.”
“Please?”
Boeuf.”

[sings:] Siege on my face and tell me that you love me
Nick’s general, Volgin, also has castle envy. Which would be fine, except he’s planning to take one of mine: Fort Schippel. Well sod off, Nick! It’s the last thing the Imperial forces still hold in the East, and losing it would mean a real change in Hochland’s... oh wait, yes, that’s narrative juice right there.

The current campaign map. For Schippel is right in the middle of the Weiss
Hills, looking all ronery. No-one's even tried to attack it before, because cannons.

We’re planning to do the siege sometime in early February, which gives us time to build up our forces in preparation. This has the added benefit of clearing some things out of my to-do pile, like this cannon, which until recently had sad unpainted in my cabinet for the better part of three or four years:


I made a few mistakes – it’s been a while since I’ve done my varnished wood method, and I got a bit slap-happy with the chestnut ink – but whatever, it’s finished! Yay boom-sticks.


I’ve called it Spitting Lizzie, because of the lizard-things cast on the barrel. If it doesn’t manage a turn one misfire in its first game, I may consider eating my hat.

Anyway, yes. Things! Coming! Very exciting. What scares me is, what will the vampires do once they control the Brass Keep? There’s a big, foul-smelling what next hanging over Hochland, je pense.


~Charlie 

The Eighth Knight

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Ways to maintain a high output of painted models no. 314: don’t buy a pimp-ass PC.

Now, as you might be able to tell by the way the Beard Bunker produced half as many posts in 2014 as it did in 2012, I bought a pimp-ass PC. Woo spaceships woo. Now I’ve done very, very well at STARTING projects... just not so well with the finishing part. A few spearmen here, a few greatswords there. One thing that I have done, though, is to paint a new member of the Silver Drakes. Why have I done so? Because Erhard von Rüdiger is dead.

If anyone who’s been following our campaign is remotely interested in the how and the why, leave a message in the comments section and I’ll go into it. Mostly, though, I figure the campaign story is only interesting to the people who are playing it.

Now Mr von Rüdiger used to ride with the Inner Circle of the Silver Drakes, so his departure left a hole in the unit that needed filling. I’ve since filled it with a character who might one day become a hero but at the moment is just the order’s newest recruit:

Rosa von Kleinberg: new to the chapter and already looking bossy as ---k.

In case you’re wondering, the head is from Statuesque miniatures. Their heads are amazingly sculpted, but slightly too large for many 28mm models. Fortunately, these old knight sculpts are bloody enormous, so she fits in just fine.

When I was taking photos of Rosa’s model, it occurred to me that I’d never actually done a post showing these chaps off, which seemed like a bit of an oversight. What with them being an Inner Circle unit, I went to the trouble of making each one of them unique. I wanted them to feel less like a generic unit of harder-than-average knights and more like the seven samurai. With that in mind, here’s the rest of ’em...

Sir Amand, First Preceptor

Sir Bernhard, Chapter Ensign

Sir Edmund, Master of Ceremonies (phat trumpet beatz all round)

Sir Amir, Master of the Watch

Sir Ottomar, Keeper of the Lore

Sir Dieter, Master of the Armoury

Sir Werner, Master of Recruits


As time goes by, I may upgrade Ms von Kleinberg to a captain, and maybe (after a few years) to Grand Master. I’m still not sure if it’d be best to improve her stats one-by-one, and gradually increase her points cost, or if it’d be better just to leap from knight to captain in one fell swoop because rules. If anyone has any thoughts on the subject, or interesting mechanics for slowly increasing her stats, I’d be curious to hear them.


~Charlie

3000 points of Gobbos... WAAARGH!

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Hi everybody! (Hi Doctor Jeff...) I have been remiss lately, it's true. My posts here have been few and far between. Truth be told, so was my personal hobby over the Christmas period. But not any more baby! I recently managed to fridge* out the last 70 goblins that were standing in the way of my original 3000 point list. Glory be, the basics are done. To celebrate this, I thought I'd have a bit of a photoshoot:

*fridge(n): a beard bunker idiom for anything difficult done with great mindlessness and purpose. Just to get. It. Done. Like carrying a fridge up stairs. No I don't remember why...


Now that is a heck of a lot of goblin. 220 of them to be precise and a bunch of spiders and monsters along for the ride. Now photographing this many gobbos is a real pain in the bum (more on that later) so I thought after the initial "impact" shot I'd break down the tribes. The Bitter Moons first:


The Bitter Moons (named for an oriental LARP teahouse belonging to friends of mine, no word of a lie) are the spine of the army. A huge slab of goblin complete with pesky fanatics and ruinous nets - anyone who thinks they're overpriced has never had a unit of halbardiers walk through their unit like it wasn't there. The giant is a 200 point brick of optimism as he only works properly maybe one game in three. Terrifyingly, this is not enough for this army. It lacks the punch to back up those huge, tarpit hordes and almost completely lacks in "softener" options designed to weaken an army before they strike. For that reason I am adding another 500 points to the 2k already here in the form of squigs - because yes - 3 bolt throwers - as anti-monster options - and 2 rock lobbers - the ultimate softener. Whole units can evaporate under a well aimed rock lobber. With 2 on the table... yikes. There's a couple of characters still to paint too, but seriously. Compared to the mound of painting required to get this far? The forty or so models still to go seems a snip. Backing up the spine of the Bitter Moons are the spikey fingers/arachnid legs of the Blackhead tribe:


Yup, that's a thousand points of - mostly - legal spider army. Mostly? Well, the shaman technically can't ride a spider in the army book but this is stupid and mostly to do with people stealing copyright so I have ignored it. A spider he shall have! He has to skulk around behind the units or lose them their Fast Cavalry bonus but a well placed Gift of the Spider God on these fellas is horrifying. The Arachnarok is the terror troop of the entire army. Almost ridiculously potent and a magnet for cannons (when they work eh Charlie? Yeah, over two games five cannon shots managed to roll a 1 to wound. Statistics for the win!). I have tried out the Blackheads as an army on their own and they feel right. The Arachnarok is ludicrous in such a small game but is killable and the rest of the army is a bit "glass hammer" i.e. hits hard under the right circumstances but shatters if it goes badly. Because of the trauma of painting this many spiders in realistic garden spider pattern I doubt I will ever add more spiders to the army. I'm done. 80 stripes per spider. 800 per unit. 2640 across the army. No more. If I ever go insane and do a second Arachnarok it'll be a black widow...


Speaking of adding to the army, as the workometer above shows, there is a whole extra lump of gobbo being attached to the horde. These are the Rivver Pikeys a means to add common goblins to the army without needing to use the aging "Genghis" gobbos. I see them as river rats, pirating traffic on stolen boats. I've made a start already and there'll be lots more where they came from. Trying to stick to finishing the night gobbos first though. With that I'm almost done, just time for one more image. What it takes to photograph armies:


In this case, a dust sheet over a washing line, several realm of battle boards, one umbrella and a very, very understanding wife. Thanks Lucy!

TTFN

Engaging Armour

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Hi Guys,

All of my recent hobby has been totally absorbed by my new found enjoyment of Bolt Action. If you keep up with Jeff over at Pirate Viking Painting (and if you don't, you should!) you will have noticed an alarming number of Soviet tanks cropping up. To counter this buildup of Bolshevik armour, I've been getting busy with assembling a German tank force for the glory of the Fatherland.

This is a picture heavy post... but who doesn't like lots of pictures.

First, the imaginatively named SDKFZ 251/1 Ausf D. Also called the Hanomag after one of the factories that supplied these armour carriers. Used by all branches of the German military in all theatres. In this case these will be protectively ferrying my Panzer Grenadiers into combat. I've got two of these beauties running around.



Next we have the SDKFZ 234/2 'PUMA'. This a wheeled scout vehicle that was attached to Panzer Divisions as a recon vehicle for Panzer battalions and for anti-tank support for the grenadiers. These machines where so ahead of their time that the developments pioneered by them are still being copied today (that'll be the sloping bottom hull to deflect mines/grenades etc). I call this one Kittie!

  





Now the workhorse of the German Armoured forces. The SDKFZ Panzer Pz IV Ausf G. Originally designed as an infantry support tank, it was continuously upgraded throughout the whole war and ended up being equipped with an effective anti-tank gun. This was the most produced German tank (the StuG III takes the most produced AFV biscuit) in the war. Which is why I'm going to have two of them!  






Finally, if all of that isn't enough to deal with those pesky Russian tanks, we can bring out the big guns. The 88mm Flak 36 Dual Purpose AA/AT Gun 'The Eighty-Eight'. This was designed as an heavy anti-aircraft gun, but some clever sausage (Rommel) figured out that, if this gun could fire a shell up to 20,000 feet and blow a heavy bomber out of the sky, that it might be pretty good against tanks. He was right, it goes through most armour like a high velocity, tungsten cored, AT shell through a Fiat Panda. Just ask Jeff what happened to his lovely KV-1.    


That is all for now, I hope you enjoy the pretty. I'm open to any and all questions about the painting of these. Let me know what you want to know!

Thanks
Maisey









Amelia's Abduction (part one)

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It seems strange to start putting this story out now, given how long ago Mark and I began (and resolved) this little plot arc, but it is the first in a series of story-based posts that will, hopefully, catch the blog back up to where we're at in the Bunker's Hochland campaign.

Demonstrating a frankly fundamentalist approach to reader feedback, this post only exists because one anonymous reader asked what happened to Amelia, and what happened at the Siege of Fort Schippel. Well, that's a lot of ground to cover and it can't be done in one entry. Instead? A series of posts. The first arc of posts (maybe three?) will cover Amelia's abduction. After that, the siege.

I'll try and keep each post reasonably short, no more than two or three pages. They will of course be image-lite, but hey, we're a niche blog and this post has been written for a small niche within that niche.

So, Mr Anonymous, and anyone else who fancies a snippet of Olde Worlde fiction, click through the section break to read part one...

+ + +


Amelia von Lessing suspected she was starting to like Sergeant Durnstoffer. The three cups of mead he bought her that evening had something to do with it, but mainly, it was the way he treated her just like he treated everyone else. He joked about her height like he joked about his own missing eye, or Hauptman’s short little legs... he joked about everyone. People were generally so awkward around her that she’d come to see socialising as something one did only out of duty. She felt she ought to say something to express her gratitude.

“I mean to thank you, Sergeant,” she said. He looked at her, baffled. “My sort aren’t always made to feel this welcome. It hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said, swaying on his feet, tankard in hand. “We all fight... you, and me, and her. And him. ’Specially him,” Durnstoffer emphasised, pointed at young private Bruger. The soldiers filling the coaching inn all cheered; young Bruger had earned his first scar during the day’s patrol. The young man smiled sheepishly and winced. “So I don’t care what they say bout wizzurds,” Durnstoffer continued, “long as you don’t ’splode up next to me I don’t care how you kill the bad’uns.”

One of the other soldiers, red in the nose, hollered, “The way he’s buying them drinks, I en’t sure if he don’t mean to splode up next to you, ma’am!”

There was a roar of laughter, and Durnstoffer shouted something semi-intelligible about insubordination, but he seemed neither embarrassed nor genuinely angry.

Amelia, however, blushed furiously. She didn’t feel angry—in fact she was curiously flattered—but anger was the easiest thing to do in any given social situation, so that’s what her face did, and suddenly everyone had shut up. Momentarily there was no sound but the crackle of the fire and the squeaking of the barman’s cloth on a dirty tankard.

There was no point trying to rescue the situation, she decided. It would only prolong the awkwardness, and if she left, then at least the Tussenhof 33rd could go back to enjoying themselves.

“I’m for bed,” she said. One of the soldiers gave a throaty cheer, and got slapped by a scared-looking corporal. “Oh, calm down, I’ll not kill anyone for rudeness.” She tried to smile at Durnstoffer, to show him that she wasn’t angry with him for being so forward, but she suspected she did a poor job of it what with the place staying so quiet, so she mumbled her thanks and left.

+ 

She woke to the sound of a dog barking. Putting a pillow over her head to soften the sound didn’t help much. Judging by the creaking floorboards and muffled voices coming from the rooms either side, she wasn’t the only one having her sleep disturbed.

Then the barking stopped with a yelp.

Grumbling, Amelia shifted out of the bed and crossed over to the window, opening the heavy wooden shutters. Moonlight shone off the puddles in the road and the mossy roof shingles on the houses opposite. To the right, uphill, she could see a few of the soldiers atop the village’s dilapidated watchtower. Their postures looked alert. It was probably a false alarm—it usually was—but she started pulling her clothes on all the same.

The first handgun shot was fired as she was buckling her belt. She muttered a curse and looked out of the window. Hunched figures scurrying across the road. Rusted armour, patchy fur, twitching snouts. Rat-men. So far as she knew, they’d never been seen this far north of Hergig.

They were coming for the inn, with no apparent interest in the guard tower up the road. She could hear Sergeant Durnstoffer ordering the men downstairs to brace the doors, but just as she began to hope they might not get in, something twice the height of a man lumbered out onto the street. Moonlight glinted off patches of grimy skin. Crude stitches held its constituent body parts together. It seemed to be half-rat, half-ogre, its snout twitching and snorting whenever one of its handlers goaded it onward. The handgunners on the tower saw it too, and opened fire. The bullets had little discernable effect.

Amelia realised she had two choices: one was to seek out its soulflame in the aether and snuff it out, the other was to get to the carrier pigeon coop on the roof and send word that the beasts of the old capital were abroad.

Using magic was too risky. She was still groggy, and a serious miscast could kill everyone in the building. She scrambled up the stairs to the roof.

As she reached the coop, the building shook to the crash of splintering wood. She could only assume the ogre had battered its way through the door. She grabbed a quill and inkpot from the locker and wrote:



There were two pigeons in the cage marked Fort Schippel, one of which flew straight out as soon as the door was open. It collided with her chest, spun through the air flapping wildly, and was off over the rooftops. Recovering, Amelia reached into the cage and retrieved the other one, sliding the rolled-up note into the tube tied to its ankle. The bird looked sideways at her as she worked, its head twitching this way and that, and then it was off. She swore as it started north, but it turned southeast after a moment. She watched it depart with some satisfaction, and turned around to grab her scythe-staff.

A cloaked figure sprang up onto the roof almost too quickly for her eyes to follow it. She made a wild swing with her scythe, but the cloaked figure rolled under it, and a split second later, she felt a blow land at the back of her neck. Her vision darkened at the sides, and she collapsed.

She drifted in and out of consciousness. Strong hands carried her through the tavern hall, now awash with blood. Young Bruger’s lifeless eyes stared back at her.

She woke again. Stars between the clouds. The head of a rat-man directly above. Movement. She was on a stretcher, bound. Her captor saw her open eyes, and said something in his rasping, high-pitched language. The hooded rat soon came, and sprinkled foul-smelling dust over her face. She coughed, and faded out again.

She woke again. Trees overhead.
She woke again. Dark. Echoing footfalls on loose rocks.
She woke again. Face down on a cold stone floor. Voices to her left.

With a clinking of chain links, she sat up and rubbed the back of her neck. She was in a cage four paces across, illuminated by some distant torches on the wall opposite, and a dull green light from above. The cage to her left held a group of men speaking Brettonian, and to her right, a lone dwarf with bruised eyes and a split lip.

Looking up, she saw the source of the green light: a lump of warpstone the size of an infant hung above her cage. The message was obvious: if she tried to channel any power, the warpstone would amplify it far beyond her control. Mutation would be the least of her concerns. The urge to cry out for help became almost irrepressible, but she quashed it. She didn’t want to give the rat-men the satisfaction of knowing just how frightened she was.

“Parlez-vous Brettoni?” one of the prisoners asked.
She looked up at the Brettonian with a start. “No,” she replied. “Reikspiel?”
“Non.”

She wondered if Durnstoffer had survived. Probably not. They hadn’t taken anyone else prisoner, it seemed, and that meant they’d come for her. Just her. Durnstoffer’s patrol lay dead or dying in Eichewaldchen, and all because they’d taken a wizard with them.

Clenching her jaw, she promised herself that the rat-men would gain nothing from her capture; nothing whatsoever.

Battle Wizards: now with ovaries

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Nothing says 'victory' like subliminally stripy trousers.

Not having a wizard in a Warhammer army is a lot like going commando. You can do it, but it just doesn’t feel quite right. That said, I didn’t want another robed man shuffling about at the back of my battle line. Historical precedent justifies the sausage fest that is the state soldiery, but by Jove, there’s no such precedent for wizards! Here was a good opportunity to get a lady in the army.

The only problem was the lack of a suitable model in the Empire and Brettonian ranges. I’d have to make one, and whilst I have built a model entirely from wire and green stuff in the past, I still find the prospect a little daunting, so when the plastic Dark Elf Sorceresswas released, I didn’t see an angry pixie. I saw an armature.

Here she is, Blu-tacked together.

I make no claim to being a Mighty Putty Master of Mightyness, so the advice in this post is largely directed at the first-time and intermediate sculptor; sadly I have as much chance of surprising a veteran sculptor as a woman does of attaining a bishop’s mitre. Oooooh, ecclesiastical buuuuuuuurn! ...fear my sass, Church of England. Wait, do C of E bishops actually wear mitres? Whatever, moving on. If you'd like to start making Green Stuff your bitch, hit the jump.


Sitting comfortably? Good. Onwards! We’ll kick off with the big picture. Here’s the order in which I tend to do any given sculpting project:

1. Prepare the armature.
2. Plan the sculpt.
3. Git yo sculpt on!

Obviously it’s not quite as simple as that, but I wanted to emphasise the importance of preparation and planning. You don’t want to drive yourself into an artistic cul-de-sac. With that in mind, let’s expand upon ze three stages...

1. PREPARE.
If you’re using another model (as opposed to a proper armature), the first job is to remove any unwanted details. In my case, this involved the removal of any Elven details, or any details that wouldn’t suit the character I had in mind (like her massive Siouxie Sioux hair).

The cleaned-up armature. With a funny-shaped head.

At this stage, I hadn’t decided exactly what I was going to do with the staff, so I didn’t prematurely hack it up.

One of my first thoughts on the original sculpt was, "how does
that dagger stay in place? Magic?"

2. PLAN.
It’s rare that just diving in will yield great results. There are different segments to planning, which I shall summarise thusly:

- Think about the character you’re creating. What vibe do you want them to give off? What is their personality and background? How might that be reflected in their outfit or equipment?

 - Get some reference material. For example, I had a rummage around the interwebs for items of clothing appropriate to the style and period, ploughing through endless photos and paintings of bodices until stumbling upon saberist’s bodice.

- Think about the order in which you’ll sculpt different bits of the model. Many sculptors like to work from the inside out, not least of which because leaving the extremities of the model ‘till last makes it less likely that you’ll fingersquish any semi-cured Green Stuff at the wrong moment. The other consideration here is access; you’ll note that I left the staff arm unattached at first; this was because sticking the other arm on would make it very hard to get at the trousers, hair, and right hip, so I left it off until I was ready to sculpt the right arm.

Evidence of planning: it's hard to see, but there are two pins
drilled into the head to stop the putty being able to squidge
off to one side while sculpting the hair.

3. GIT YO SCULPT ON.
Ok, this is the most involved step, so let’s start with the basics.

Things you need: sculpting tool(s), sculpting putty, lubricant. And the ability not to giggle every time someone says lubricant.

Which putty?
There are other sculpting putties out there; I’ve heard ProCreate is good, although I’ve not used it myself. Why they decided to call it procreate, particularly when you’ll need to use lubricant with it, is beyond me. I can only assume they’re not as childish as I am.

There’s also Milliput, and although I find it prohibitively chalky, it does have less shape memory than Green Stuff. It is actually possible to mix it with Green Stuff, which gives you a sortof best-of-both-worlds result re: shape memory.

Brown Stuff, I’m told, is great for doing weapons, as it can be sharpened after curing. In my case, I’d be doing a lot of organic textures – fabric and hair – so Green Stuff served my purpose well.


Sculpting tool(s)
I use a GW sculpting tool, and it does most of the work; a pin is also handy for making belt holes, or particularly thin lines. Fundamentally, almost anything in the room around you can be pressed into service; at one point when sculpting Amelia, I ended up using the smooth curve of the ostrich feather on a State Trooper’s hat to get a particular shape in the fabric. Seriously, use any hard object if it’s the right shape, but honestly, the sculpting tool really will do most of the work.

Unfortunately, in recent years GW have taken to selling sculpting tools with very broad-edged ‘blades’ as opposed to something sharper. This renders them almost entirely useless. You should be able to find something very, very similar but less blunt by having a look around the interwebs.

Lubricant (hur hur okshutupCharlieit’snotfunny)
Many folks hold with water as a good thing to use when trying to prevent Green Stuff sticking to your tool. I don’t. It gets in the way. Ex-GW sculptor Chris Fitzpatrick used to wipe his tool on his greasy forehead, and hilariously, this does actually work, but only if you have a greasy forehead. Personally, I usually let a lil’ drop of olive oil soak into a sheet of kitchen towel, and wipe the tool across that. You don’t want too much oil on the blade – just enough to help it to slide over the putty.

Mixing the putty
For those of you that haven't mixed Green Stuff before: just cut off a little strip of putty from the strip using the sculpting tool, slice out a few millimetres in the middle where the blue and yellow bits meet (as it can be semi-cured/hardened already), and squish the rest together with your fingers until you get an even green colour.

People talk about differing mixes of blue/yellow to create harder/softer putty with different degrees of shape memory, but most of the time, you’ll be fine if you just have a roughly even mix (erring on the side of having slightly more yellow than blue). If you find the putty is sticking to your fingers when you’re squidging it together, put a tiny amount of oil on your fingertips (as mentioned in the paragraph on lubricant). Make sure, for the love of god, that you have a completely even green colour before you put it anywhere near the model.

Smush the putty onto the model
The first thing you need to do is get the putty to adhere to the model’s surface; doing anything else to it before you’ve got it to stick would be a horrible waste of your time. Just stretch and prod the putty until it’s covering the right bit of the model, push it firmly against the model with the flat of the tool’s blade, and you shouldn’t have too much trouble (unless you over-lubed earlier, in which case it’ll just fall off and make you sad. Also, please never quote this bracket out of context.)

Form a basic shape
The first thing you need to do is to get the putty into a smooth, crease-free rendition of the vague shape you’re aiming for. Once you start sculpting intricate details, it’ll be really hard to get rid of any creases from overlapping lumps of putty.

The trick to getting said smooth surface is to polish the putty with the flat of the tool’s blade (or the lil’ round bit on the other end if it’s tough to get to). Curves can be formed using any of the round parts of the tool. In fact, don’t think of the sculpting tool as a blade with a handle, think of it as a Swiss Army Knife made of shapes you can push into putty.



Start creating texture
Despite the sculpting tool looking like a knife, you won’t use it like one. The only job of the “blade’s” edge is to provide you with a way of making long, thin indentations. Most of the time, you’ll want to form shapes using the flat of the blade, or to make dents by pressing the tool in with the blade at a 45 or 90-degree angle. You’ll also want to use the back (blunt) edge almost as much as the front edge.

At regular intervals, look at the reference material you dug up earlier, or get people to model for you. I regularly asked Jeff to extend his left arm, so that I could observe how the fabric of his jumper bunched and creased when the arm was held out to the side.

It would be pointless and counter-productive for me to attempt a long and in-depth description of every individual movement one can make with the sculpting tool; a video would be helpful, but at this precise moment in time I lack the technology. One day, perhaps. For now, I’ll share a few hints and tips on sculpting different kinds of objects.

Hair: A common error with hair – even on professional sculpts – is to give the hair too little volume. With that in mind, most of the time you’ll want to make the basic shape and then draw lines into it with the blade. For free-standing sections, make the shape and press in the lines up against the rest of the model, or a piece of lubricated plasticard/whatever, before then bending the putty into its freestanding position. Do this with freshly mixed putty, or you’ll be struggling with the putty’s shape memory.

Fabric: When sculpting folds or creases, less is often more. Making too many indentations results in a scrappy surface texture, so be sparing and decisive. Also think about the fabric you’re sculpting. A thin fabric will have sharper folds than a heavy one.

The ribbon tying the dagger to the belt fell off at one point, hence
its absence in the photo of the "finished" sculpt. Thankfully I found
it amongst the detritus of my workstation before I finished the
paint job.

Wood: If you’re trying to sculpt wood grain, you can end up with grain that looks too rounded. So, whereas we’ve talked about making a basic, smooth shape and then drawing lines into it to make hair, there’s a further stage with wood: once you’ve put the lines in, you need to gently re-flatten the surface by polishing it with the flat of the blade, but not so much as to completely remove the grain you sculpted.

Armour/metal/weapons: Surfaces with sharp edges can be tough when using Green Stuff. Personally, I find it’s important to work fast and to try to get a sharper edge before shape memory kicks in. Once you’ve got the rough shape, polish/buff the surface as described above, pressing the flat of the blade up against the two surfaces leading to the edge so as to sharpen it. Even more than with fabric, getting a smooth surface early on is important; the flat areas will show up any inconsistencies like a muthahubbard.

Chainmail: This is surprisingly easy, but laborious to explain; bear with me. Why’s it easy? Because you won’t have to rush like you do with things like armour, as you’re going to bork the surface so hard that shape memory won’t be an issue. First, sculpt the chainmail like plain, smooth cloth. Keep folds to a minimum – chainmail is heavy stuff, so it’s only going to fold if there’s something there to hold up the weight! Once you’ve got a nice, smooth surface, get a pin out and press a series of holes in a vertical line down from the top to the bottom of the mail, with the pin at a 45 degree angle to the surface. When you get to the bottom, change the angle of your pin by 90 degrees, so that rather than pointing down the mail, you’re pointing up, and start poking a line of holes right next to the line you just produced. Go up and down, up and down, until you’ve gone across the whole of the surface, and hey presto! Chainmail. Why up and down? Because a big field of regularly-spaced dots without directional bias won’t usually look like the rings are linked to each other.

The finished sculpt.

Work in small, bite-size chunks
There’s nothing worse than sculpting an amazing cloak, moving on to the hair, and accidentally poking/squishing/borking your lovingly-sculpted fabric. Once you’ve done a bit you’re happy with, it might be a good idea to put it down and leave it to cure.

Practise, practise, practise
Like drawing, painting, martial arts, and pretty much everything else ever, practise. There is no substitute. Don’t be hard on yourself when you screw things up, because you are going to screw things up. Screwing something up is actually a good thing, because it means you just learned something, and are now far more likely to remember it.

Be over-ambitious
This might sound like a bad idea, because you’re setting yourself up for a fall - like trying to paint a detailed freehand banner when you’re still struggling with getting stick-men right - but if you try to do something way beyond your current skill level, your skills will improve. That said, don’t be stupid and ruin some expensive components by covering them in poorly-rendered putty. Maybe try doing something over-ambitious on a model that doesn’t matter; that way, failure costs you nothing but time.

Mine's less nekkid! ...image of Sorceress shamelessly stolen
from GW's website. No copyright infringement is intended.

...and there we have it, folks! I hope that’s been helpful; it’s quite difficult to squish ten years of putty poking into a few thousand words. Was anything unclear? Is there something you’d like me to explain in more detail? Has this been helpful?

~Charlie

Amelia's Abduction (part two)

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For those of you who read and enjoyed part one of Amelia's abduction, here is the second part. I debated for some time whether or not to go through the details of her torture at the hands of Voltik. Mark did some frankly ingenious things to psychologically break her (never before had I been invited into another man's dimly-lit basement for the purposes of role playing, and was frankly relieved upon finding no PVC accoutrements or restraints).

In the end, I felt there's only so much fun in writing and reading a torture scene. You're just going to have to imagine what three months in Skaven captivity (or two hours in Mark's basement) must be like.

One final note before we get started... some of you may be wondering why the old, old post about sculpting Amelia showed up as "new" a few weeks ago. The short answer is that it's a seemingly irreversible technical fault with blogger; I added a tag to the old post, and it re-created it as a fresh post. Go figure.

Anyway, read on for more olde worlde fiction... part three (of four, I think) will hopefully turn up faster than this did...



General Rikarht von Hess was reading the day’s dispatches at his desk when Captain Oskar Brandt strode into the office. Rikarht liked Brandt; he was a decent litmus test for the mood of the army as a whole, happy only when the rank and file were happy. But for the last three months, despite the autumn’s successes, the young captain had been uncharacteristically downbeat.

On this particular morning, though, Brandt looked determined. Hopeful, even. It was good to see, but it left Rikarht with the suspicion that an ill-timed request was forthcoming.

‘They’re moving her!’ Brandt said without so much as a good morning, sir, or an is this a good time, sir? Do you mind my barging in like this whilst you’re trying to prepare your base of operations for the siege which the norseman Volgin will inevitably enact, thus rendering you somewhat more preoccupied than an Averlander at a pony sale?

‘Good morning, Mr Brandt,’ Rikarht said, deciding that there wasn’t much point in upbraiding Brandt for his lack of decorum. It would only lengthen the conversation.

Brandt breathlessly explained that the wizards in the Hochland region had been using arcane means to track the location of Amelia von Lessing. Apparently the rat-men had left her staff at the scene of the abduction, and it had been the sympathetic object used in a series of séances. For three months, von Lessing had been kept in Hergig, presumably being tortured for information she didn’t possess about Hochland’s military plans.

Rikarht didn’t particularly care.

Von Lessing had been convicted for orchestrating the murder of her own father, the great General von Lessing of Nordland. Rikarht hadn’t known the man, or the details of the case, but he didn’t need to. Anyone willing to kill their own father couldn’t be trusted; an amethyst wizard even less so. She was only a step away from necromancy, and the fact that the last man to make extensive use of von Lessing’s services was outed as a vampire only served to prove his point.

‘...and now she’s being moved, we’re not sure where, but the wizards say the rat-men are using tunnels under the Weiss Hills, and they’re headed north-west. There have to be entrances to those tunnels somewhere nearby. Fort Schippel’s in the middle of the Weiss Hills, for Shallya’s sake! They’ll be passing us tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. I don’t think we’ll get another opportunity like this. I just need a few regiments and a few days.’

‘I’m sorry Captain, but that’s out of the question.’

‘Sir?’

‘Firstly, do any of our troops have experience in fighting underground?’

‘No, but—’

‘No they don’t, and the rat-men do. Secondly, Volgin means to besiege us. You know that. Do you think me willing to risk the lives of sixty-odd soldiers to rescue one convicted murderer when we need every man and woman to defend these walls?’

‘It’s not my place to share the personal circumstances of her father’s death, but if you knew—’

‘I don’t need to know. There is no excuse. Nor is there any justification for what you’re asking. Hochland has no need of her, and she does not deserve our help. Dismissed.’

‘Sir, my lord, may I remind you that—’

‘You have been dismissed, Mr Brandt.’

‘Yes, sir.’

+ + +

When Oskar emerged from the darkness of Fort Schippel’s keep into the midday glare, it took his eyes a moment to adjust. When it did, he found all three wizards waiting for him amidst the cocktail of mud and snow-slush that was the courtyard.

‘He said no, didn’t he,’ grumbled Ruprecht. The raven perched on the druid’s shoulder croaked, and stretched its wings. Ruprecht whispered something to it.

‘Well perhaps if you three had actually been in the room...’ Oskar began testily.

The oldest of the wizards, Elsa Gerhart, answered him. ‘If we’d been in the room,’ she said, ‘he would’ve made us promise not to go and do it ourselves.’

‘So what’s next then?’ asked Febe Hasenkamp.  ‘Are we off to ask the dwarfs? I like dwarfs. No subtexts.’

Elsa seemed to be suppressing a smirk, but Oskar didn’t know why; in all his dealings with Dwalin, the dwarf had been direct, helpful, and honest. Oskar wanted dearly to get the dwarfs involved, but Febe had forgotten one small detail.

‘It’s a nice idea,’ he said, not wanting to just tell her she was wrong, ‘But Karak Hoch is over seventy miles away. Even if we sent them a message by carrier pigeon, they’d never get here in time.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Febe said nonchalantly, ‘it won’t take us more than an hour.’ Oskar had no idea what she meant. She giggled when she saw  the confusion on his face, and wandered off in the direction of the main gate.

Elsa smiled at him reassuringly. ‘It’s our problem now,’ she said. ‘And you’re needed here. Don’t worry, Volgin won’t sneak up in the night. He’s not even built his siege equipment yet.’

She and Ruprecht turned to follow Febe, and Oskar watched them leave, wishing there was something he could do. At least, he thought with a smile, he’d enjoy telling General von Hess where all the arcane auxiliaries had gone.

+ + +



Warhammer: (r)age (quit) of Sigmar

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As every wargamer with a web connection (or, I suppose, the willingness to read White Dwarf) knows, a new version of the Warhammer Fantasy rules has just been released. It's four pages long. And it's free.


It seems only right that the Beard Bunker should join legions of commentators elsewhere and fart our collective opinion all over the intertubes, because the internet has the capacity to be one great big opinionated fart horn and it's nice to be a part of something big.

There are of course several topics to discuss. I'm going to talk about the underlying game design, and I'm going to try and be fair. Jeff is going to be talking about the dissection and discarding of the Old World setting, and he will probably not be as nice. By 'not as nice,' I suspect it's going to read like W:AOS walking innocently into a back alley and spending seven quality minutes getting thoroughly seen to by a burly man wielding an industrial sander, a hoover, a pedicure set, and some shape charges. Finally, Mark will reflect on both these areas following our initial game with WAOS today.


Part one: da roolz (Charlie)

This is hard for me to write. Not because I don't know what to say, but because I know how hard it is to write rules, and I know that the GW studio care a great deal about their work. Anyone who suggests they don't care has never tried to write a ruleset. It's really, really difficult, and I salute the studio for having the bravery to make such dramatic changes.

That said, I'm starting to suspect there is a fundamental difference between what I hold to be the foundation of a good game, and what the GW studio think is the foundation of a good game.

For me, the bedrock of gameplay is making choices. All the stuff where I roll a dice to see what happens is just seeing that choice play out. If the game reduces the player to nothing but a dice-rolling meat-bot, it's not gameplay; it's more like being some sort of weird, celestial secretary observing your wee men move around on a map and recording how well they do. How fascinating.

There is still some tactical decision making in WAOS, in that units have something akin to LoTR's control zones - you can't move within 3" of an enemy model without charging it. This means small, sacrificial units can screen more important ones, and tough shieldwall units can defend vulnerable missile units. Unfortunately, that's it. Since there are no longer any flanks, and no restrictions on movement, it's effectively impossible to outmaneuver people, which seems like a fundamental element of medieval-esque fantasy warfare.

Dude, where's my movement tray?

Now I'm all for streamlining rules. If a game throws plenty of interesting quandaries at a player with only four pages of rules then great. WAOS does an incredible job of streamlining some very complicated cause/effect relationships into four pages by repeatedly asking 8th edition Fantasy questions like "yes I know you have a comparative weapon skill chart, but since everyone just ends up rolling 3+ or 4+ anyway, why bother having the chart at all?"

Good question, that doesn't mean you have to throw out all the tactical nuance as well.

Now of course one of the big elephants in the room - even for a relatively non-competitive gamer like me - is that of game balance. There isn't any. Like, any. I appreciate that overly competitive people are seriously toxic to the hobby, but this feels like an overreaction to the problem that absolutely will not fix it. Yes, players have complete freedom to do whatever they feel like. Will that freedom cheer up lil' Jim because Affluent Timmy's parents bought him so much plastic crack that lil' Jim's ten Empire state troops have no chance against Timmy's twenty-strong mob of greater daemons? No.

Personally I want a fight to be a nail-biting, down-to-the-wire sort of affair, and if you lose game balance, you lose this possibility. WAOS makes this functionally impossible. It's like 40K's intellectually deficient cousin.

Speaking of intellectual deficiency, we come to my final point. Realism. Yes, I know, this is a game with daemons and griffons and so on, but leaving all realism behind makes it less immersive. For example:

Handgun Volley: You can add 1 to hit rolls for an Empire Handgunner when it shoots its missile weapons if its unit includes at least 20 models. 

Casting the grammatical problems with that sentence aside... they get better at aiming their guns because they've got lots of friends? HOW DOES THAT WORK? Hey, at least they're not crossbowmen. Their version of that rule means they get to shoot twice, because time is bendy.

OK that ended up being more rant-acular than I intended. Short version? I genuinely like the attempt to simplify a pretty convoluted game, but the studio overshot the mark to the extent that I'm just going to carry on playing 8th edition.

I'm curious to hear what other people make of the new rules, and will merrily respond/debate with any comments left on this post!


Part two: but it is the ende of the worlde (Jeff)

Thank you for that kind introduction Charlie, I'll try to live up to it:


Whilst Charlie and Mark are the best placed to talk about the underwhelm-ment (totally a word) that is the rules, I wanted to talk about something much more toxic to my interest in this game: The destruction of the Warhammer World. This has been much hyped as being a re-invigorating step, a means of breaking free of the same tired old thing aaaand it does. That is certain. The trouble is, in doing so it has killed, completely, any care I had for their product here.

farewell old friend, we knew you almost too well
Some context may be required. I started playing this game at 10. I was introduced to a magical, dark place where the embattled hosts of humanity fought against monsters and their own twisted kin. Where fantastic beasts aided the mortal and fallen elves duelled their own benighted brothers. It. Was. Awesome.

Fast forward 25 years (yes I am that old, shush you).  And we have a world so rich in background and depth of character that even different city states in the same nation have distinct identities. I knew the geography of that world almost better than I knew my own. No other game has that kind of continuous depth of narrative to draw on. To have inspiring stories and legend to prop it up.

After all, it's not like it inspires whole new narrative campaigns... oh wait.

Then… they blew it up, in a series of events described in the End Times. A narrative series so farcical and nihilistic as to be laughable. By the way, anyone who spent the between £120 and £200-odd quid on those books has to be feeling pretty sore right now. Fork out for that and a few months later they destroy the world those books are based on. But that is another matter.

I had always assumed that the End Times would be the new persistent story world.  GW like their nihilistic “world on the brink of collapse” thing as they think it needs that to justify constant warfare. But no, goodbye rich setting, hello to nine floaty realms (smell the Norse myth in all that) in some sort of vortex. I’ll wait and see if they bother at all to re-home the people that lived on the Warhammer World or whether every sentient creature in creation is now in a soldier.

"Eyup Dieter, how's your Pauline?"
"Dead mate, how's yours?"
"Dead too, makes you wonder why we go on."
This killed it for me. I like a setting where you are fighting for something not just against something. A world where your populace live interesting, colourful lives, where flawed diplomacy can exist (flawed to allow for constant fighting). They’ve said to me: “That series on TV you were enjoying? The 25 year (35 really) long one that got more and more involving and deep? Yeah, we’re rebooting is with the cast of Glee, keep watching though right?”.  I’m afraid I’m done. I’ll continue to live in the world I have done for so long. A world where 2/3of the landmass remained completely unexplained and unexplored. Endless potential for expansion (I’ll talk about that another time, I’ve got tons of ideas)

If, though, we accept the premise that there was a desperate need for some kind of magic based realms out there… well, here’s the obvious solution. Do it AS WELL AS the world you have. GW slung the bathwater out and failed to notice all the babies paddling in it. Having an alternative game like AoS (all FOUR pages of it) included in Warhammer, used as the starter game even. Neat idea.

Then when people have enough models, they can start playing the big game that apparently has such a big barrier to entry (I challenge that when an assault squad now costs half of what a battalion set did five years ago) and have a different sort of challenge.  They could have EXPANDED the world and their product range… but no.  And so I am done, with regret, I have been captain optimist through every version of the game, but this is not a version of the game. This is the destruction of it. So I am done. Now I shall continue to play 8thand be very, very happy.
My happy place
I have one final thought. GW desperatelyneeds to re-engage with its community.  In fact, I’m going to speak to them directly: Please, please, talk to us. Find out what we want. At the moment you are acting like Apple, “we’ve made a thing, now make the world love it come what may”. That can sort of work when you are selling a device. You don’t sell a device. You sell products that facilitate one of the most collaborative endeavours on earth. It needs the participation of all concerned to work, when you act as though our opinion doesn’t matter it harms you.

Now, I know what you are about to say, the internet is an absolute cesspool of nerdrage and bile. I hate it too, wrote about it too. But you have pulled up the drawbridge way too far. For weeks we’ve been told “ignore the rumours, wait for the truth”, but the truth is here now… and we do not like it, to the extent of ignoring it, we (i.e. the players you don’t talk to not just the bunker) could have warned you of this.

I sincerely hope that this works for you. I do. I hope you get all of the new players and money you are hoping for. I hope it is a stellar success with the percentage of Warhammer players who like the new thing and the people who didn’t like Warhammer. Equally, if you like this thing, play it with my enthusiastic blessing. Because it would be horrible if you had destroyed the world I loved; mutilated the game; and acted as if we were the weird ones for not falling immediately in love with it; if it were not to work commercially. Horrible.

I’m just grateful I have awesome, like minded friends forming a gaming community. I can’t imagine how upset I would be if a club enthusiastically endorsing AoS and ignoring Warhammer – every GW store for example - was my only option.

If anyone wants me I’ll be arranging my little plastic mans in neat little squares and smiling a lot.



Part Three: Kogzhammer (Mark)

I’ll try to keep this short as there is a bit of overlap in what I want to say and what the others have already said. These thoughts are what I think of the game now, having played a single game. I will be fair and play more games to see if its a grower - although I'm not entirely sure who I'll play them with. 

So I might as well come out and say it: I don’t like the Warhammer Age of Sigmar rules.

Growing up with Games Workshop, I always saw Warhammer as the game that the grown-ups played. I think that was because of some of the historical references, a lack of Space Marines and because it was a game that rewarded clever, thoughtful play.

I am a particular fan of Warhammer 8th edition. It seems so beautifully conceived, from the intelligent rules that were written with an eye forward to the coming armies to the massive set piece model making displays in the rulebook. I always got the impression that 8th edition Warhammer (from Island of Blood to the hardback rulebook) was someone’s labour of love.

Gameplay

I have sympathy for the designers of Age of Sigmar. It is obvious that they were trying very hard to streamline the rules so that the game was easier and faster to play. The process of building the rules must have been difficult, and to reference one of Jervis Johnson’s articles, they must have had to have ‘murdered their darlings’ to have got to this place.
There is precedent for what they tried – the design team rewrote Epic in the late 90s and turned it into something much more streamlined, better and easier to play. People complained about the abstraction, but an equal number of people loved that they turned a quagmire of a game into something fast, strategic and relatively simple.

In this case, the same thing hasn’t worked. In removing the complexity from the Warhammer rules, I feel that they have also taken out most of what it was that made Warhammer, well, Warhammer. There is now so much in the game that is either not worth doing (outflanking, ensuring you get the advantage of charging, redirecting units with sacrificial chaff, using terrain) or is so facile and automatic (magic, movement, equipment selection) that the player of the game doesn’t feel engaged with what is going on with their army.

Nowhere is this more apparent than with army selection. Choices that would have been agonised over during 8th edition army selection are now automatic, without drawbacks and completely free: “do I want my Rat-Ogres to have guns? (They’re free and have no disadvantages) Well, I’ll take all of them, and my rat ogres without guns are now obsolete”.
The same is true of musicians, champions, extra ranks, etc, etc.

Guns are so hot right now, why don't we have any?

Not to say that this game is actually all that simple. Whilst the core rules are four pages long, each and every warscroll comes with its own special rules, meaning that the ‘looking things up phase’ is far from over. These special rules are sometimes the equivalent of the old universal special rules, and are sometimes ridiculous (Kurt Helborg’s Moustache for example).

Background (Fluff)

Jeff has gone into the background at length so this will be brief.
The basic themes haven’t changed as much as Games Workshop might have you believe. Whilst they have stripped much of the detail out of the Warhammer world, the basic principles (an empire under siege from Chaos and other animals, humanity united and barely holding on, constant war and the occasional scuffle) have been retained.

Unfortunately, all the ‘human details’ that made the Old World compelling have been surgically removed. Imagine your favourite book rendered down into an encyclopaedia article and then re-scored as ‘My Little Pony’s Adventure in Magic Land’ – That’s what the background now feels like to me.

These changes, combined with the utter tedium of moving large numbers of models individually (up to three times a turn), the massive abstractions of the ruleset, the nonsense logic of the Warscrolls and the lack of worthwhile tactics and you have a pretty unappetising game. I will, like Jeff and Charlie, stick with 8thedition Warhammer.

Age of Sigmar feels like lowest common denominator hammer and in no way does it feel like a subtle, nuanced game for adults. It feels like it’s been put together for the wrong reasons, for a very attention deficient minority of players and without much in the way of thinking about the existing playerbase.


[Jeff: Mark makes a damn good point here, it feels "designed for the younger gamer", well, when I was 10 I didn't want to play with stuff designed for 10 year olds, I wanted what the big kids had...]

I’ve tried not to rant and I think I've succeeded. 

I’m not angry –I’m just disappointed.




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