Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Rogue Trader: Gnummschkull Terrdlipp, Space Ork Warlord and Nobs!!!!

Gnummschkull Terrdlipp is by no means the most notorious Ork Warboss ever to clash with the men of the Wailing Reach.  He has not levelled the most fortresses or sacked the most cities or built the highest pyramid of skulls, not for lack of trying.  He is in fact largely forgotten these days, his depredations having taken place some centuries ago, and far beyond living memory.
He is, however, very typical of the sort of minor Warboss whose raids and plunderings have gnawed at the fringes of the Reach for millennia, and as such, by better acquainting ourselves with him, we can learn much about his kind.
This series of data faxes shows Gnummschkull in the midst of a group of his cronies shortly after making planet fall on the desert world of FarGo sometime around the Year of Our Emperor 39470.  , Gnummschkull had just made something of a name for himself in the Wailing Reach by carving a red belt of slaughter and destruction across the face of the marshy world of Nepenthe and had loaded his ships with plunder. However, it was not long before Gnummschkull's horde began to suffer at the sharp end of counter attacks by Planetary Defense Forces, the 4th and 9th Nepenthe Imperial Guard regiments, and the Dead Men Space Marines.  Thus Gnummschkull decided to vacate Nepenthe and seek some other nearby world on which to exert his will.

Unfortunately for Gnummschkull, the planet he chose to attack next was FarGo.  Though arid and sparsely populated, FarGo is inhabited by a race who call themselves the Tejaboors, sometimes rendered as Texaboers.  Amoung all the Emperor's children, one would be hard pressed to find a people more fiercely proud, self-reliant and more willing to use violence as a means to solve problems than the Tejaboors.  Gnummschkull's horde had hoped to help themselves to some of the vast herds of tasty bison-like animals they had observed roaming the planet's surface from their ship, but soon found the herds to be energetically defended by the accursed Tejaboors, whose "Ranger-kommandoes" proved extremely lethal and difficult to come to grips with.

A good, proper fight was finally had by all, though, when an enormous force of Space Marines and Imperial Guardsmen landed on FarGo and immediately closed with Gnummsckull's horde with the intent to destroy it.  Gnummsckull's boys proved to be tough nuts to crack, however, and after two weeks of fighting the expeditionary force was forced to temporarily break off its attack to refit and reorganize.
In the lull, Gnummschkull held a council of war with his under bosses.  The council largely consisted of Gnummschkull yelling and hitting his nobs on the head while they complained that casualties had been heavy, that there was nothing to eat and that 'Dem Dead Boys is awful 'ard."  At last, Gnummschkull gave up in disgust and agreed to that the horde should leave the Wailing Reach for greener pastures.  And so they did.
"Oi!  Wot yoo lookin' 'at?"
At last I've managed to paint up a proper commander for my Ork horde!
Had to take these pictures on my desk because the electricity has gone out in the club house.  Hope to have that fixed shortly.
"Awright,  Lads...'Ere we Go!!"

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Big Blackie's Ultimate Black Chariot of Blackness!!!!!

Wwwooorrgghhh!!!!!!! OI!!  Listen, you!  I'm Big Blackie!  I come from da darkest part a da Dark Lands to da Black River country as many years ago as I got teef and dat's gotta be...er...4...6...10...9...15 years ago, maybe!  Since den I been fightin' hoomans an' Stunties an' skaavins an' Chaos mootants an' anybody else as makes demselves easy ta get at!
Dis 'ere is me chariot see?  I callit me Ultimate Black Chariot o' Blackness 'cause its more scary if I calls it dat an' it kills stuff better if it's black!!!  What?  C'mon, evverbuddy knows dat!  'S got 3...7...12...I dunno... a lotta boars to a pull it!  An' big old wheels and knives on da front dat's good for stabbin peeple as I drive by!!  Haw Haw!!  'S great!
Now yoo know wot?  I shoulda had me chariot a long time ago.  Long time ago dis bastard Mouse was buildin' it fer me an' was takin a reel long time cause it was a lotta work...see 'e took an Old Glory Orc Chariot and 'e was tinkerin' and doin' all dis stuff wivvit...took the douchey wulves dat came wivvit off and put on some real proper Marauder boars...

...changed out da driver wif a proper citadel/marauder croo...an' 'cause 'e's a big gurl 'e went to da craft store an' bought some dowel and joolree wire to make da harness fer me boars...haw haw!  Went to da craft store...gurly bastard...
Still...I gotta givvit 'im...me chariot looked pretty good until...right at the end when it wuz almost all done?  Da daft bastard dropped it.  Smash!!
So what does Mouse do?  Does 'e fix it?  No!  'E's all feelin' sorry fer imself...trows me chariot inna shoe box an' fergits about it.  Well...Ain't dat a fine howdoyado?  So ere I am sittin' inna box fer two yeers while dis bastard gits over hisself.  "Oh lookit me...I'm Mouse...My life's hard 'cause I broke me miniature chariot....wah wah wahhh..."
Well...fank Da Gods de uvver day Mouse finally grabs his 'sack, gits me outta da box and starts commencin' ta git me chariot all fixed up.  Dese 'ere are me drivers, Farkel an' Snert.  Good boys, allowin' dat dey ain't proper Black Orcs, just regular gurly Orcs.  Steady in a fight, though.  Gotta givvit to 'em!
Dis bastard on da uvver hand...grr...'e 'angs off da back of Da Ultimate Black Chariot 'o Blackness...ever once inna while takes a swipe at some stunty dat's already got run over by da boars an' acts like he did sumfin big...arrghh...woulda killed him a long time ago but the basturd married me dotter so I gotta put up wif him an' pertend like I like 'im a bit while I figger out a way for him to have a conveenyent 'accident'...know what I mean?
Oh!!  Dis 'ere issa good pitcher of me!  Look!  I look pretty good, huh?  Sometimes a boss hasta git out and fight wiv his boys on foot, an' as luck hazzit, da space in da Old Glory Orc Chariot is exactly big enough to hold a 25mm base, so Mouse decided to model me separate so I can ride inna chariot or go ground poundin' wiv' me Black Orc bodyguard.  Mouse is workin on paintin' dem up...dey should be ready before da big snow...Oy!  Lookit me Axe!  Pretty fancy, eh?  'S a magick axe!!  When I wuz casted at da big factry in Engalund dey gave me a little gurly stick wiv some little balls on da end ov it...might be able ta beat yer pet hamster wiv sumfin like dat, but are ya gonna fight Stunties wivvit?  Naw, dat be stoopid!  So Mouse filed and sawed dat liddle stick off and gave me a proper magick axe instead!!!!!  Now Look!!!  WAGGHH!!!   WAGGHH!!  See how dat chops?  Pretty nice huh?  'S great fer hoomies!  Take dis to fight da hoomies, hoomies dey seys, "No, no!!!  Yoo cant do that, I got hooman roights!"  An den I choppem in half!  HAW HAW HAW!  Ain't life grand?
Oy!  'Ere's annuver good pitcher of me...see I got me army banner dere...and dere on me roight is...um...I know 'e's important...a wizzurd or somefin'  but 'e's just a gobbo so I can't remember his name...oh, an' dere's some of me crossbow boy's back der...see 'em?  sharp boys, they is...
Da Last fing a Stuntie sees...WWWWWOOOOORRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sunday, July 8, 2018

Black Annie & The Trolls of the East Bank Toves...

In the high flood of spring, the Black River overthrows her channel in many places, drowning the willow thickets that frown upon her eastern banks and turning vast expanses of the countryside into trackless marshland for months at a time. On the Eastern shore, a little north of the Flea Fell and approximately opposite the the dread Tulgey Wood which lies upon the western bank, there lies that region known as the East Bank Toves.
The East Bank Toves, or Slithy Toves, are a region of sand bars, gullies and willow thickets.  High and dry in the heat of summer, The Toves are transformed by the rising waters of late winter and early springtime into a wilderness of swampy waterways shadowed by dark and twisted trees .
For scavengers, The Toves are rich country, for as the swollen river retreats in summer, she leaves many pools and pockets of herself in the shadows amoung the sand bars and tree-roots, and here many creatures find themselves stranded every year...fish, frogs, eels and far larger, stranger and more sinister things struggle and thresh amoung the waning waters...easy pickings for the hungry and the enterprising.
The dread Troll Queen 'Black Annie' has lived in The Toves of the East Bank for as long a time as any folk tale remembers. Before the Dwarves settled on the Thunder Mount, before men colonized the West Bank, long before the coming of the Chaos Lord Buzzgobb Phesterlick, or the Black Orc Warlord Big Blackie, Black Annie was the undisputed sovereign of The Toves.  For centuries beyond count the Dark Queen of The Toves has nourished herself and her offspring on the rich pickings of the river pools in the dry months, and gone raiding amoung the surrounding communities to 'fill da pot' during leaner times.
In the days since the coming of men to the Black River country the tale of Black Annie has traveled far...women who have never dwelt within a hundred leagues of those dark waters terrify their children into good behavior with blood curdling tales of the cannibal Queen of the marshes, who hunts misbehaving children like a wolf hunts rabbits, and whose dire thirst for pain and blood can never be quenched.  Black Annie's crew will sometimes latch on to a neighboring Orc or Chaos war band, but usually only if the pickings in The Toves are slim or if they're really desperately bored and in need of a great smashing and killing of random things.
I love all the minis of this group but I'm particularly fond of this fellow.  I've named him 'Neil' after the despondent and rather stupid hippie of 'The Young Ones."  Go ahead.  Try to tell me there isn't a striking resemblance.
Always loved this fellow.  Note the frog feet sticking out of the net.  He's had a good day's picking down at the pools.
This is a splendid figure.  Paint job didn't come out so well.  Didn't do him justice, really.
                                Yeah, he's got a nobby hairdo, but e got a big stick wiv a bloody great rock on, so ye  won't make fun of im if ye knows what's good fer ye, eh?                                          
                                                        Annuva big Troll wiv a big stick...make way er we'll smash ye good!

Ready fer some fightin'!  A strong new addition to Big Blackie's Orc and Goblin horde....should be at 3k points very soon!

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Clan Mouder Attacks!!! (Again!!!)

Man, It's been a slow year for minis so far!  I never seem to have any time to paint, but I have managed to finish out the balance of my Clan Moulder forces!  I now have as many Clan Moulder Beastmasters as the army list allows together with thirty giant rats and eight rat ogres!

 In addition to the latest packs of beasties and handlers here is Beastmaster Thrattle, who commands all the Clan Moulder contingents in The Flea Fell.  I intend to field him as an independent lvl 20 hero...armed with an ensorcelled goodie or two...

Rat Ogres are one of the meanest things going in the Skaven army, and they gobble up a lot of points, which is helpful when you're trying to get an army together.

I already have another two of each of these models in the horde...GW only produced two rat ogre castings...

...so to add a splash of variety I went with these fellows for Rat Ogres #s 7 & 8.  They are old Grenadier models, sold as "Giant Wererats" and sculpted by Julie Guthrie, I think.

They have a slightly more refined, sophisticated air about them but I suppose we can forgive them for that.  They are just the right size, and I think they fit in nicely. 

Ack!  More giant rats!  I always loved the look of enormous Andy Chambers' giant rat pack and wanted one of my own.  A great swarm of thirty of the little devils should be fun to field.
Plus the models have a lot of character and are fun to paint.
Eek! Eek!

"Willard!  There's rats in the basement!"

Last three beastmasters I'll ever paint.  Makes me a little misty, as I've always enjoyed working on them.  I do have a couple of others that I use as drivers for my skaven slave regiments....
I think I'll call this one...Socrates!

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Pulp: The Scarlet Police

"In the little Crimson Manual
it's written plain and clear
That who would wear the scarlet coat
shall say goodbye to fear;
Shall be a guardian of the right,
 a sleuth-hound of the trail-
In the little Crimson Manual 
there's no such word as "fail"-

Shall follow on, though heavens fall,
or Hell's top-turrets freeze,
Half round the world if need be,
on bleeding hands and knees.

It's duty, duty, duty first and last,
the Crimson Manual saith,
The Scarlet Riders make reply;
"Its duty-to the death."
And so they sweep the solitudes,
free men from all the earth;

And so they sentinel the woods,
the wilds what know their worth;
And so they scour the startled plains
and mock at hurt and pain,
And read their Crimson Manual,
and find their duty plain.

Knights of the lists of unrenown,
born of the frontier's need,
Disdainful of the spoken word,
exultant in the deed;
Unconscious heroes of the waste,
proud players of the game,

Props of the power behind the throne,
upholders of the name;
For thus the Great White Chief hath said:
"In all my lands be peace,"
And to maintain his word he gave
his West the Scarlet Police."
                                                   - Robert Service

I've been wanting to do some Pulpy adventures in the Great White North for a long time with large, hairy sasquatches, large, hairy fur trappers and large, tentacly Cthuhuish nightmares behind every other Pine Tree.  My Miskatonic expedition to the (ant)Arctic was the first project, this is the second.  Still struggling with the lighting in the Clubhouse as you can see from the blurry, crummy photos. I don't know what the solution to that problem is going to be.