The Unwitting Pawns of Chaos

Following on from some recent great news on behalf of a friend, I have restarted in earnest a project that I had left by the wayside for a time (mostly due to being distracted by other shiny things and mental health issues) so that we might meet on the field of battle for a spectacular clash of awesome miniatures.

Anyway, so I've been recently working on a small mortal contingent of my larger army (which will be using unit rules from the Chaos Grand Alliance lists) and have been mulling over the various background points for them. Given the general theme of my army, I had it in mind that the aesthetics for my mortals would be Brythonic from around 400AD (although my Chaos Lady mounted on a Llamhigyn Y Dwr is based on a 12th Century Welsh heroine) however, I didn't want them to have overtly blatant worship of the Ruinous Powers worn openly upon the miniatures.

When the Dark Age of Sigmar group was started on Facebook, it's chief aim was to explore those corners of the Mortal Realms not yet fleshed out in canon and to ask the question; what became of those mortals who had to survive during the Age of Chaos? The Age of Chaos lasted for centuries, with some areas more affected than others, and some lands saw vicious wars between the hordes of Chaos and the beleaguered mortal warriors before the hordes moved on to other battlefields. Of course, all this changed when the gates of Azyr reopened and the Age of Sigmar began as his chosen warriors, the Stormcast, began to 'liberate' those lands under the sway of Chaos.

This particular event put me in mind of several historical instances where Christians attempted to do the same, by coercion or force of arms (the Crusades and the Post-Christianity Roman era), and 'liberate' the indigenous populous from their 'heathen ways' and supplant their 'old religion'. It made me rethink the nature of worshipping the Ruinous Powers; that whilst some would give in body and soul to full devotion (such as the Bloodreavers and Kairic Acolytes), for others, perhaps in a region less riven with the corrupting influence of Chaos, the worship of the Ruinous Powers is reduced to folk-beliefs and superstitions, with the populous wholly ignorant about the true nature of Chaos or from where the roots of their 'old religion' spring.

This then could open up an interesting contrast on the field of battle, wherein the shining Stormcast are no longer the benevolent liberators, but rather a malevolent invading force bent on subjugating a mortal populous (who really don't know any better) and enforcing a change in worship to Sigmar. A rather delicious shade of grey, no?

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Gotterdammerung

The city of Götterdämmerung in the Realm of Ulgu has more than its share of dangers. Those who live out their lives within its walls enjoy more security than those without, providing they know how to ward their homes against the dead and daemonic, stay out of certain neighborhoods, and are careful not to anger the alchemist who lives next door. Of course, every day pallid bards spin tales about those unfortunates who made that one mistake every living thing is supposed to be allowed and wound up on a slab in the city morgue. If they are lucky, the coroner won’t turn out to be a closet necromancer who’d have them shambling around, preying on the living, until the city watchmen get around to brutally putting them to rest once and for all. If they are unlucky, their relatives saved a few coins by slapping them in the ground at a poorly guarded cemetery, where they’d stay until a resurrectionist dug them up for parts or auction the body to the highest (and often the most unsavoury) bidder….and this was all before the coming of the braying hordes of the ruinous powers.

Within a day, everything changed. It started with long-hidden cults, worshipping both the long-forgotten gods of Order and Chaos, tearing at each other in the streets of the city. Next thing you knew, you couldn’t throw a dead cultist without hitting a minor civil war in progress. But it wasn’t a war for territory — no, this was a fight for the very souls of the populous. Before long, the howling armies of Chaos were battering against the city walls. That wasn’t the worst of it. Mortals didn’t fight this war alone. Dark things that legends spoke of only in hushed whispers could be seen from the battlements, a soldier might find his comrade suddenly possessed whilst in combat and aberrant creatures of pure nightmare ambulated over the hills on a multitude of twisted limbs. The ruling guilds, fearing the worst, fled through the realmgate in the centre of the city before it fell silent, leaving the rest of Gotterdammerung to their fates and without leadership.

As swiftly as it began, it was over. There was no winner and it is likely the battle simply moved on to another field, somewhere else, but given that one moment the siege raged on all around them and then the enemy seemingly disappeared the next, the populous were given to believe the (now popular) myth that the shadows of Ulgu simply devoured them. Whilst some of the city lay in ruins, Gotterdammerung had largely weathered the ferocious storm but was forever changed. Those non-mortal entities who survived faded into the shadowed alleyways of the city, maybe waiting for the day when the ruinous powers were in ascendant again. With the loss of the ruling guilds, the remaining senior officers gathered an ad hoc martial council, imposing strict curfews and began the laborious task of rebuilding the shattered quarters of the city.

The biggest change was in the shadow-wolds beyond the city walls. The flora and fauna that had always thrived there increased in number during the war and with the corrupting influence of the chaotic hordes became something altogether more dangerous. With the standing militia of Gotterdammerung refusing to leave the city walls to keep them in check anymore, those who do venture out of the city — by choice or misfortune — face the perils at their own risk. Even before the coming of Chaos, navigable roads were few and far between as much of the shadow-wolds could not be charted due to the constantly shifting landscape. It doesn’t help either that the wilderness beyond the city walls (as does Gotterdammerung itself) exists in a perpetual twilight, choked by thick fog which appears to be more shadow than mist. More than a few travellers have found themselves arriving at their destinations far sooner than they’d planned, having wandered through an umbral-cantrip, or never arriving at all, doomed to an eternity of wandering adrift upon unfamiliar tracts. All that most of the populous can hope is to hide in the relative safety of the city and hope its fortifications are strong enough to keep the creatures out. As the years rolled on, some people liked to pretend that the unnatural, the cursed, and the damned don’t really exist. That they were exaggerations of history or the products of hysteria. But the truth is that things other than human have always been a part of Gotterdammerung, only more visible at certain times than others.

Gotterdammerung is now more isolated than before and the populous are forced to become self-sufficient or starve. Massive allotments were tilled around the city on the grounds of buildings that were razed during the war. Similarly, gargantuan abattoirs were constructed to both breed and slaughter livestock. Anyone caught poaching or tampering with either of these receives an automatic sentence of death.

However, after centuries of interminable silence, the city’s realmgate suddenly reactivated and from it strode forth giants in shining armour haloed in a blue-white light. They weren’t welcomed with awe but rather deep suspicion and the Martial Court of Gotterdammerung were largely disinterested in a return to the worship of Sigmar (indeed, even today, Stormcast are a rare sight on the streets of Gotterdammerung). The traders that followed were perhaps more accepted if not, at least, appreciated and these days Gotterdammerung relies heavily on the trade that comes through the realmgate. Indeed, such is the greed of the city now after so long under the sufferance of relative poverty that rarely is anyone turned away; all are neither welcome nor unwelcome in Gotterdammerung, regardless of their racial characteristics or backgrounds (real or falsified), but all are carefully surveilled by the city watchmen and the paranoid inhabitants.

Today, Gotterdammerung’s inhabitants can be divided into three broad categories: those who can pass for human, those who can’t, and those of the shadow-wolds beyond the city wall. The first broadly covers aelves, duardin and anything else that looks near-Human (or can make itself look that way). Even soulblight vampires and necromancers (often fleeing from the despotic regime of Nagash in Shyish to the only other realm they can survive permanently in). These find it easiest to coexist with humans in the city, can move about with a degree of freedom and, in some places, have gained a measure of acceptance. This won’t save them from being hunted down by the city watch (or the dreaded Judexi of Sigmar) though, if enough deaths are traced to their door or they flagrantly break any one of Gotterdammerung’s many (and sometimes bizarre) laws.

The second group are those who, usually because of how they look, stand out in a crowd. Prejudice and fear (most of it justified) keeps them in the shadows - should they care. While some aren’t completely inhuman, such as Orruks (and other Greenskins), Sylvaneth and Ogors, they’re often considered to be entirely uncivilised and prone to unpredictable behaviour which makes them dangerous neighbours. Their natures make them often appear utterly outlandish to the normally distrusting residents (although most cannot tell the differences between a Dryad and a Daemon) and have come to be regarded in most districts of Gotterdammerung as undesirables. Perhaps the most dangerous are those grotesque creatures that have either never been mortal or are simply too freakish to be believed to exist (who hasn’t heard the lunatic tales of rats the size of men?), that skulk and stalk in the darkest corners of the city.

Despite the efforts of the city watch it is rarely peaceful on darkened streets of the city, and any sense of security is tenable at best. Cults of all kinds are on the rise again, doomsayers cry of grim omens, the lunatic and demented grow in number daily, the dead rarely remain where they’re left, skirmishes and riots breakout on regular occasions and denizens who have long survived in the shadows are drawn out by the smell of spilt blood. The Martial Court try to keep the lid on as the body count goes up but now, more than ever, those who can handle a blade or bow, incant protective wards, sling fireballs from thin air or simply pound an enemy into gristle with their bare hands are in demand. The Martial Court, city watch, and innumerable businesses are all hiring skilled freelancers to take on jobs that need doing. For somebody who knows their way around a fight or a grimoire, the only thing easier to find than employment these days is a quick death….

But as the common proverb in Gotterdammerung goes; the shadows consume all without distinction.

For those of you who have been playing pen and paper RPG's for a while may notice that some of my inspiration for Gotterdammerung has come from a very old RPG done by West End Games called Bloodshadows. I didn't want to make a carbon copy of Mordheim, but rather something equally bleak yet with a little more frenzied life in it.

Recently, whilst browsing through my local charity bookshop, I found a simply delicious artbook for a 2015 Playstation game called Bloodborne (at a very cheap price) which instantly got the imagination ablaze. The pictures I've included here are ones I've managed to find from the internet, but I do urge you to look for the book yourself; its full of rich concept work - perfectly fertile ground for conversions.

Gotterdammerung is pretty much still in draft right now, but please let me know what you think.

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Prototype Avalonnian Knight

The general background is still being sketched out, so it's just pictures for now. He stands a little shy shorter than the Stormcast. Hope he passes muster in this new Age of Sigmar.

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Jovan Voortdurend – A DAoS Witch Hunter

The rise of the witch hunter in the Mortal Realms came out of necessity at the beginning of the Age of Chaos when the isolated settlements of man needed champions armed with both the knowledge and weapons to fight the dark forces of the ruinous powers. Indeed, the term ‘witch hunter’ has become something of a misnomer considering their foes include not only witches, but also the predations of daemons, cultists, rat men, the various forms of the undead and a thousand other cthonic entities that have risen in the apocalypse.

Neither was it just individual hunters that answered the call in defense of the Mortal Realms, but rather, as the millennia passed, whole family dynasties of hunters came to be. Relying on the foundations of wisdom from their ancestors, certain hunter bloodlines became infamous across all eight realms, each family armed with their own weapons, knowledge and creed. Indeed, each realm can be said to have influenced each family in the ways they wage war against their enemies: those in the realm of Shyish utilise bells, those in the realm of Hysh use mirrors and captured light, those in the realm of Aqshy wield weapons of purified flame, and so on.

Nor is the knowledge base universal amongst the dynasties for each often hold massive libraries filled with unique tomes of lore reflecting their individualistic creeds. For some are more than willing to utilise the blasphemous magicks and weapons of their enemies against them, whilst others are staunchly against such a practice; citing reasons from the robustly pragmatic to the fervently dogmatic. Similarly, not all families are solely devoted to the grace of Sigmar, but will often call upon the forgotten gods of order (and sometimes to other deities or pantheons of a more ambiguous alignment) for aid in their works.

Jovan Voortdurend belongs to a fractured bloodline of what is often referred to by the other dynasties as a “Ragged House of Vagabonds”. Despite his acerbic nature, his tattered demeanor and his ‘whatever it takes’ attitude to his work, he is an incredibly proficient hunter. Armed with a vast pool of knowledge and variety of esoteric weapons, he earns very few friends amongst his peers for his creed, but his results cannot be argued against; even if most say he walks a dark path and is bound to fall off the edge soon enough.

Efrafan Warrior

♫ A long long time ago, I can still remember, when Games Workshop only had five stores ♫

Actually I can't, because this harkens back to the misty age of 1983, some months before I was born when the Manchester store first opened it's doors and they give away this very cute little miniature to celebrate: a unique Broo variant for Runequest.

Photo courtesy of Solegends

Some six years later, being a very precocious child obsessed with mythology (mostly Greek at that point), I was given my first 'choose your own adventure' book entitled; Steeleye and the Lost Magic.

Now this gem of a book was filled with some rather macabre and dark illustrations that may well have sparked my first interest in the larger fantasy genre. However, despite the years that have passed, this particular illustration has stayed with me.

I don't know why this particular illustration stayed with me above all the others in the book, but it's one I have been meaning to emulate in miniature form for a while. After a few false starts a year ago, I put it on the back burner until the DAoS movement started recently and I was inspired to give it another go.

 

The Efrafan (a name appropriated from Watership Down by Richard Adams) are native to the Realm of Ghur and, as warriors of Order, they are currently embattled in the bitter and protracted Underwarren War against the Skaven.

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Minimalism in AoS28

Okay, so perhaps I should start by explaining a little on what AoS28 is.

Following on from the successes of the INQ28 movement and it's ethos in exploring the darker, forgotten corners of the 41st Millennium and the people who dwell within. AoS28 proposes the same ideals, but naturally, focussing on the Mortal Realms following the cataclysmic events of the Age of Chaos. Inspired by the likes of that which came before (such as Mordheim), AoS28 seeks to move the action away from the frontline 'big battles' and discover what happened to those poor souls that did not have a safe haven in which to wait out the apocalypse. Coupled with the Blanchesque aesthetic that proved very popular in the INQ28 circles, AoS28 attempts to move away from the 'luminescent' vision of the Mortal Realms promoted by Games Workshop and instead delve into a much darker pastiche.

Okay, onto explaining what I mean by 'minimalism'.

Instead of the art/music movement popular in the 20th Century, what I mean by minimalism is rather the characters in the Mortal Realms that represent the 'Man on the Clapham Omnibus'. Now, the Blanchesque aesthetic, especially in miniatures, normally includes loading characters up with all sorts of trinkets, gewgaws, furs and such, treading that fine line between what is artistic and what is overloading. But what about turning that philosophy on it's head?

That is what I mean by minimalism, the dichotomy of the heroic in the simplistic. Compared the grand armies fighting on the front line, in these forgotten corners that the AoS28 ethos espouses, the lowly spearman would become the mightiest of heroes, defending the boarders of their besieged little niche. Essentially, with minimalism, I ask how would I (or anyone living an 'ordinary' life) fare should the forces of Chaos suddenly rampage about my doorstep? What kind of weapons could I find in my own home? What kind of armour, if any?

With minimalism in mind, gone are the mightiest heroes to be replaced by Fred Bloggs armed with a kitchen knife tied to a broom handle. Gone are powerful archmages to be replaced with Jane Doe the hedge witch and her bag of petty magicks.

Just a thought.

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Outgard - Red Priest of the Forge (Painted)

Actually, this is much more sloppy that the Angry Beefcake and I only finished it in an evening (I believe they call it 'GW Store Standard' or something like that). I've made some modifications from the original by adding a steam-engine servo-arm and it is now much more closer to the idea I had in my head.

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The Angry Beefcake

As promised, finally, one of my miniatures gets a lick of paint! I can only apologise for the poor quality of photographing and of the painting in general. The Angry Beefcake is based upon the sublime John Blanche piece which I think was entitled 'The Bloodied Lords'.

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Painting painting painting....

Okay, so for the last few days I have been engaged with something that I haven't done in a very very very long time; painting a miniature.

My local GW has a painting competition going on for the first day of October and the subject matter is the free Slaughterpriest that came with September's edition of White Dwarf. The Runtherd insisted that I challenge myself and enter, so after three weeks of on and off converting/sculpting, this final week has been set aside for painting the (what I can only describe as) 'angry beefcake'.

I'm about three-quarters of the way done and on Saturday you'll get to see the first example of my terrible painting skills on this blog....

What this space.

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Elven Exiles - Leader

Way back when Mordheim was released during its prototype phase in White Dwarf and the various warband types were introduced to the waiting public, I did wonder whether the elves would feature in the game at all. I figured that the Dark Elves at least would be really interested in the acquisition of wyrdstone and imagined a corsair led party sneaking around the twisted broken streets, with screaming witch elves leaping from the rafters of ruined buildings and even an assassin lurking dangerously in the shadows.

Imagine my bitter disappointment when they plumped for a squad of shadow warriors, that were seemingly pulled together without any forethought or imagination. Anyway, this settled ill with me, like a stomach ulcer. It wasn't until much later, when Mordheim pretty much had long past its heyday, that the concept of elven exiles came to mind.

These were kind of inspired by Dan Abnett's Gilead books first, but mostly inspired by the hit anime series Sword Art Online. I envisaged the idea that there were any number of elves from all races (Dark, High, Wood and Sea) who, for whatever reason (be it personal or circumstantial), had become displaced from their native homelands. Some of whom may come together, all previous racial grudges forgotten, to form a warband.

The leader (name in progress) is inspired by SAO character Kirito and is based on a classic Eldar Harlequin model that I acquired at a very reasonable price on eBay due to its pistol being missing.

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Outgard - Red Priest of the Forge

On Outgard, the Red Priests are the descendants of those who came from Mars, a heavenly abode wherein dwells their majestic god, a Dragon, with skin of steel and blood of mercury who sits atop the mountain of intricately wrought iron and whose breath is the very furnace for the life-fires of copper and cobalt.

The Red Priests are the keepers of the old stories and teach their craft only to those who apprentice themselves to their order. Normally the Red Priests remain secluded in secrecy behind the walls of their Forge-Monastery, but occasionally, journeymen are seen wandering the wilds, moving from forge to forge in the villages of man, offering their services.

Such peregrinates are considered gruelling because Red Priests are forbidden to bare any flesh outside the walls of the Forge-Monastery and so are forced to travel in heavy crimson robes, their hands bound in steel and leather gauntlets, and their heads entirely enclosed in a mask of cold iron. Some of the more fervently devout take this decree to greater heights of piety by ceremonially mortifying their own flesh (notably the limbs) before encasing it in freshly forged plates of steel, which scorches and cauterises, binding to the offending meat forever. Such 'augmentations' are then reverently cared for with daily applications of unguents and holy oils to prevent infections and rust.

When venturing into the wilds, Red Priests rarely travel alone, and are often accompanied by a small coterie of servitors, former criminals who have been ritualistically purified of their wickedness using the ancient secrets of lobotomy, their faces then forever obscured behind iron helms so that none may recognise their old life. It is these servitors that bear the Red Priest's articles of craft; inscribed anvils, lesser tools and are even sometimes yoked to large mobile forges.

The Red Priest will carry the greater tools themselves, holy instruments of forging, along with the sacellum-brazier filled with blessed coal to use in foreign furnaces, and sometimes they may even bear one of the priceless sacred artefacts from the Ancient Times when the ancestors could perform miracles and crafted articles of wonder.

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Sculpting the Mona Lisa's Face

Okay, so my next project is pretty darn challenging: a miniature based on this most classic John Blanche piece of artwork.

Wish me luck!

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Outgard - Barquentine, The Luddite-General of Lindisfarne

It has been far too long since I made regular posts, which is a pity because I've got two entries for RYR (Grime Lights) awaiting photos, along with two fantasy based projects and something of a Grime Lights prequel warband waiting in the wings!

Anyway, on Ammobunker right now, a group of phenomenal Scandinavian modellers have been working on something called Outgard, an INQ28 project aiming for a really low-tech medieval setting in the gothic majesty of the 41st Millennium. I've not been invited to participate, but it doesn't stop the creative juices flowing and idle hands are the Devil's playthings.....

Barquentine, The Luddite-General of Lindisfarne

Stories of the Luddite-Templars of Lindisfarne are told in whispers over guttering fires in the night. For their spies are everywhere, hunting down blasphemous wytchtech before summoning the true might of the Templar army to ensure its disposal.

The fortress-city on the large island of Lindisfarne, on the northern coast of Überwald, is considered (by its inhabitants at least) to be the last safe and free city on Outgard, providing you adhere to its strict ascetic laws laid down by the city's founder, Saint Edvard Ludd (who was in fact one of the last Imperial Fist astartes to die on Outgard before the 'Great Exodus' nearly ten thousand years ago).

Barquentine has served as general to the Luddite-Templars now for nearly two decades, but as age and severe old war-wounds have weakened his body, he has adopted the role of Spymaster, allowing the young, but firebrand Joan D'arquebus to take up his mantle.

Obviously, Barquentine is based on the wonderfully sublime John Blanche sketch below.

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Taking a walk on the Warhammer side

I'm not entirely sure when I made this miniature, but I recall it was in the summer of 2013 for a community game of Warhammer Quest. She is based upon a simple dwarf warrior with a space marine falchion. Evidently she is pretty rough-cut compared to my more recent sculpting attempts, but she bears the crested shield of her home and an ancient dwarven runesword.

Rebekah Brokksdotter, known otherwise as Rebekah Bluehair, is the wayward daughter of renowned master engineer Red Brokk Gunnarsson of Barak Varr. When she was born, her hair was as blue as the ocean that surrounded the dwarven sea port, which was perceived to be a good omen. Little did her kin know that Rebekah would grow to be the very spirit of rebellion and freedom. As a youngling she was awe inspired by the non-dwarven travellers that made port with their exotic wares to trade before they sailed off again into the horizon and further adventure. Tired of the constraints of dwarven traditions and expected duty, Rebekah snuck out of Barak Varr whilst her father was out at sea to find her own saga. 

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