Snorri Headbiter's Giant Slayers

"The tale tells that one night while Snorri Skytoucher, famed scout of the Muster of the Upper Hall lay snoring in a drunken stupor, a sudden storm broke upon the slopes of the Thunder Mount.  Skytoucher's wife, Gudrinn, unable to wake her husband, wrapped herself in a bearskin and went out into the squall in an attempt to gather the family's sheep ere they were all scattered before the storm and lost.  In the gloom of darkening evening and onrushing storm, the Dwarf-wife thought she could see the sheep gathered together, a patch of white far down the slopes in the gathering gloom.  She made her way toward the white patch, straining her eyes through the dark, and thought she could see it move, but the closer she drew to it, the further it seemed to move away, until she was quite far down the Mountain's side and very much alone in the dark.  Still, she pressed on, deeper into the storm, until suddenly she found herself amidst a troop of Goblins who had come up the mountain to raid but had themselves been caught by the abrupt onset of the wind and snow......a few gentler versions of the tale say that Gudrinn's end was swift, but most agree that it was painful and lingering.'"

"...When Snorri awoke and found his Gudrinn missing, he went out in great haste to find her.  The storm had quieted when he left the Upper Hall and emerged on the mountainside, and it did not take him long to find the sad remains of his beloved wife in a small copse a little less than a mile down the slopes of the great mountain...."

"...the pain of his loss was unbearable, but it was his guilt that twisted his sorrow and anger into something wild and wrathful beyond the ken of ordinary Dwarves or Men.  Snorri vanished into the woods and mountains of the Black River country, living on roots and berries and what meat he could catch with his hands and teeth alone.  Tortured and driven by his pain and shame, he shunned the company of his own kind, keeping to the wildest and loneliest country he could find..."

"...In the years that followed a legend grew up around Snorri's name.  Young Dwarves spoke his name in awe.  Goblins spoke his name with direst dread.  Tales told of a ghost-dwarf that crept into the Goblins' very camps and throttled them in their sleep.  A ghost that drank Goblin Blood and ate Goblin livers and their tounges...."

"...In time, the legend of Snorri Skytoucher would drive a small band of Dwarf heroes, each driven by his own demons, to seek out the company of the Ghost-Dwarf, and to join him in his unending hunt for all the enemies of the Thunder Mountain folk.  The legend of Snorri was swollen with wild tales of death seeking and defying deeds.  Around roaring fires in the high-vaulted halls of the Thunder Mount, Dwarves would spend all winter telling the story of how Snorri took the magic hammer of the Orc Lord Ungolt Iron Teeth, having crushed the windpipe of that infamous personage under his bare heel, or of how mighty Snorri  opened the skull of the Goblin Chief Wuggo Grub-Gut with his very teeth, thus earning the sobriquet "Head-Biter."

"...The decades roll by.  The sides of the Thunder Mount are dressed now in winter snows, now in summer grass, and still the legend of Snorri Headbiter lives on, as he and his grim band patrol the lands west of the great river, seeking the final extermination of their peoples' enemies...or the long peace of death..."

-Orlorrin, The Black River Chronicles

"Arrr!  Let's get ta killin'!"

Star Wars: Rebel Pilots!

5 dashing Rebel fighter jocks, scrambling to their birds.  Or maybe they are rushing to defend their hangar against ground assault?  Or maybe it's an X-Wing Down  scenario?  I dunno, but it was good fun modeling and painting this group.  Again, all the figures are by Grenadier, made for West End Games' Star Wars Miniatures Battles.  Two have been converted.

Brave Sullustan Pilot ready to get down with his heavy blaster pistol....

Using a nifty invention called a Jeweler's saw, I removed the head of a second Sullustan model and swapped it out with a Chadra Fan non combatant figure from the cantina box set to make this Chadra fan pilot...I think he came out ok...

Fun stuff...

The second conversion is the pilot to the right in this picture.  I swapped out his original head with one pared from the Luke on Tattooine model from the A New Hope boxed set.  The female pilot is from the series of blisters Grenadier released to support their Dark Stryder campaign.  I don't think she is a Guthrie sculpt, the Dark Stryder models are noticeably more husky than most of the other models in the Grenadier Star Wars line.  The character in the Dark Stryder Campaign is a redhead.  As much as I love ginger girls, I decided to make her a brunette after I found Scruffy Rebel's Rebel girl photos while googling about looking for inspiration...

The last pilot...

"Man your ships...and let The Force be with you!"

Scarfgagg Sorehead's Psycho Squad

Behold the famous Orc Berserker Scarfgagg Sorehead and his band of crazed Orc boys.  Scarfgagg is one of the more important chieftains in Big Blackie's Orcish horde.  Up until a couple of years ago Scarffgagg was a relatively minor Orc champion, but eventually a lifetime's worth of exceptionally poor oral hygiene caught up with him.  Devastating, chronic tooth decay set in and resulted in intermittent splitting headaches which occasionally drive Scarfgagg into hurricane-like fits of blood-crazed fury.

Scarfgagg's boss was the first to feel the sharp edge of his lunacy when he made the mistake of giving Scarfgagg an order when Scarff was in the grip of one of his migraines.  Shortly after giving the order, Scarfgagg's boss died violently and control of the mob fell to Scarfgagg.

Since then, Scarfgagg's boys have had a great deal of fun spreading terror and destruction up and down the banks of the Black River.  They don't really understand how or why their chieftain goes into his terrifying rages, but they delightedly do their best to imitate him.  The results have been impressive.  Scarfgagg Sorehead's boys have become of of the most feared outfits in Big Blackie's army.

I'm off to Enfilade in Washington state today, so I'm throwing this post up quick on my way out the door.  Finishing this regiment is an important mile stone, as it completes all the compulsory troops for my Oldhammer Orc & Goblin army.   My plan is to finish 3,000 pts by fall, adding on one unit or group of characters per month until the big finale in Orctober.  Then, in November or December, they will go up against Buzzgobb Phesterlick's Chaos Horde!  Once I get more Orc boys into the horde, I may start using Scarfgagg's Orcs as Savage Orcs.  I never really liked the bone-in-the-nose look of the savage Orc minis, and don't know why regular Orcs wouldn't be just as prone to frenzy as say, Dwarves.  Orcs are all pretty savage, after all, aren't they?

The minis are all Citadel, except for 4 Alternative Armies minis and 1 RAFM.  Finding Orcs models with extra hand weapons is pretty challenging, and assembling all the figures took quite a while.  I painted the banner myself.  (HA!!  I WISH!!)  I actually snipped it from the back of a battered copy of the Heroes for Wargames book.

View from the wake of the unit's advance.  Going to try to make bright, garish shields reminiscent of 3rd edition a theme of Big Blackie's horde...

"I fink I feel a 'eadche comin' on..."

Rogue Trader: Dead Men Space Marines Tactical Squad #1

From a manuscript discovered in the depths of the Scriptorum, the Emperor's Palace, Terra.

To:  His Excellency The High Inquisitor Josephes T'Rasque.
From: Yacobe Scrivenius

Excellency,

As per your final instructions to me, I have begun to assemble information for you on that region of our Emperor's realm known as the Wailing Reach.  I fervently hope that this dossier reaches you in time for you to review it when you emerge from warp space prior to your beginning your investigations there.  Unfortunately I fear I will never be able to send it to you myself for, whilst delving here in the depths of the Emperor's labyrinthine library I managed to let the door to this, one of the Scriptorum's deepest and remotest vaults, swing shut and lock itself behind me.  Knocking and calling for help is pointless, as I believe I am the first scribe to have passed this way in many years, perhaps decades. The door is of a very old type which cannot be opened from the inside, and I confess I have surrendered all hope of finding any means of egress from my prison.  I do not hope for succor from without, for in the interests of secrecy I naturally told no one of my errand or the nature of the information I sought to discover for you.

Still, all is not lost.  I imagine that I shall not perish from famine or thirst for two or three weeks, at least, and I have brought a powerful battery with me that I have no doubt shall continue to run for some time after I myself have expired.  I should have plenty of time to assemble a good quantity of pertinent information for you to aid you in your endeavors. The Wailing Reach is very far from Terra, and your Warp journey may well take eighty or one hundred years to complete.  In that time, I pray, some scribe like myself may discover my bones and forward this manuscript to you as per instructions I shall leave with this text.

You Specifically requested information concerning the Dead Men Space Marines Chapter, and some of that I shall gather and record in the best fashion I can.  I fear it shall be arranged in rather haphazard and unlovely fashion, but I must make the best progress I can before my strength begins to wane.  In the following sections I include some photo-cells of some of the Dead Men, with what I hope is some useful commentary.

***

Presented here is a photo-study of a typical squad of Dead Men Marines arrayed in tactical squad configuration.  The Chapter's history is fascinating and complex but to summarize very briefly here, the Dead Men were formed during the darkest days of the Horus heresy from the shattered remnants of three Space Marine legions; The Harvesters, the Death Eaters and the Raven Watch.  These three legions, broken beyond hope of re-building, were struck from the Imperial roles and reformed, along with a large number of equally irreparably mangled Imperial Guard regiments, into an ad-hoc operational entity dubbed "Battle Group Omega".  Battle Group Omega spent the remainder of the Heresy War  in the role of a fire brigade, being rushed from one crumbling sector to another.  Their last mission was to destroy a Rebel Force led by the Chaos Sorcerer Abn Fleinn.  During the mopping-up operations which followed the defeat of Horus and his followers, Task Force Omega pursued Flein to the very edge of the galaxy.  There, in an uninhabited region which would come to be known as The Wailing Reach, Flein opened a Warp Gate and led his followers through it to a kind of safety in the arms of Chaos.

With the Heresy Wars now over, the Administratum was surprised to find that some members of Task Force Omega remained alive.  What was left of the Marines who made up part of the force were refashioned as the Dead Men Space Marines.  They were detailed to defend The Reach and to guard against the peril of Abn Flienn's warp-rift, which throbbed like an evil eye at the edge of the galaxy, and which came to be known as the Vermillion Gate.  I believe that the War of the Horus Heresy had taken it's toll on the surviving Marines.  The constant Warp-Jumps and desperate fighting against heavy odds and in terrible conditions, combined with the knowledge that they had been written off as losses even before they had been killed, did much to shape the culture of the future chapter, and undoubtedly influenced many of their strange, indeed seemingly heretical, beliefs about the nature of time, and their place in it.

The colors used by the chapter are somewhat more subdued, and uniform standards somewhat relaxed in comparison to other Space Marine chapters.  The colors themselves are the colors of violence and death: somber black, bone white, and rusty red, the color of dried blood.  Helmets are painted white, to suggest a skull.  Equipment tends to be mixed, with post Heresy, Heresy, and even pre-Heresy pattern equipment appearing throughout the chapter's companies.  This is partly necessity; the Chapter's remote posting means that they cannot rely on Imperial armories to supply them with what they need, and partly preference.  The chapter presides over a frontier district, and many Dead Men prefer the pre-Heresy weapon systems with which mankind conquered the galactic frontier, claiming that while less sophisticated, they are also more rugged and repairable in the field.  The Dead Men manufactorum on Ran still produces most of the common patterns of weapons and armor used over the last ten thousand years, side by side, snd individual marines equip themselves with those weapons they believe are most suited to their mission, or to their taste.

The badges of rank and tactical markings so common amoung the vast majority of Space Marine chapters are almost invisible amoung the Dead Men.  Special Weapons such as Power Swords and Power Fists serve to distinguish leaders from their marines. Some officers and NCOs will in addition wear a small bone marking on shoulder or shin pads to denote their rank.  All squads are cross-trained in operating as tactical, support and assault squads, so the custom of using tactical markings on helmets, shoulder pads, etc, is discarded.  Company symbols and mottos are common, however.  These marines are probably of the 4th Company, as they wear that unit's motto, usually rendered as "Mort" or "Mortis" scrolled on the shoulders of their firing arms.

 Scarcely any mark of rank can be discerned on this Dead Man squad leader, other than his power fist and the modest leg bone marking on his left shin.

 An interesting example of custom armor is shown here worn by this this corporal/assistant squad leader.  Note again the helmet painted so as to give the rough suggestion of a skull, and the "cloven' boots apparently intended to suggest hooves.

These marines have emblazoned their helmets with primitive-looking skull markings, taking the concept of the 'skull' helm to its logical extreme.  Such markings have no particular significance other than as personal expressions of the marines' fervor, but have undoubtedly helped earn the marines their fearsome reputation amoung the Space Orks of the region, who are known to refer to them not as Space Marines but simply as "Dead Boys", a term of some grudging respect.  The ancient las cannon carried by the gunner is an interesting example of the Chapter's preference for weaponry considered obsolete by other chapters.  Of pre-Heresy design, it is thought to be sightly less accurate and underpowered compared to more recent models.  Many Dead Men prefer it, however, claiming its simple and rugged construction make it more dependable, while the open housing makes it highly accessible and thus much easier to maintain while in the field.

There are no less than four different models of power-generator backpack in use by members of this one squad, perhaps as these items are the first elements which wear out on a suit of power armor, and as such have to be replaced with whatever the marines have at hand.  Some say the performance of the old Heresy-pattern armor improves markedly when fitted to the latest model backpacks, which may explain their appearance here.  Note also his obsolescent leg armor, which offers much less protection than the greaves worn by his mate.

This Marine's melta gun is an excellent example of newer-model weaponry but his older-pattern armor is the same as that of his comrades...

The squad advances through a ruined settlement, possibly on the quasi death world of Faust.  The thick vegetation of Faust produces floating clouds of toxic vapors which have retarded human attempts to colonize this world.  The genetically enhanced Marines are largely resistant to its effects, and occupy a secret reclusium and base on the planet.  Unfortunately, Orcs and Genestalers are also largely immune to the planet's poisons, and the marines must regularly patrol the thick forests to eliminate any toe-holds that such scum may have established there.

***

Weariness steals over me and I feel I must rest for a short while.  My battery pack still shows plenty of power.  Perhaps I'll search the vault again for something I might have missed.  Some hidden key or exit?  Or would that just be a waste of time I could spend more profitably at work?  A quick rest...then I'll see...

Rogue Trader: Snargrel Barffbagg's Space Ork Raiders

The Wailing Reach may be far removed from Orkoid space, but small bands of Ork raiders and pirates have always been present in the region.  Lately, their numbers have increased as various small warlords have descended upon the Reach, eager to pick the bones of the isolated and war torn planet  Geminion Secundus. Most come in search of slaves, plunder, feasting, fighting, or just a chance to pick through the blasted and fascinating scrap-pile which Geminion Secundus has become over the last few centuries.

An eccentric few have taken to serving as mercenaries in the forces of the planet's notorious Gang Bosses, or have taken up the distinctly un-Orky business of trading goods with some of the locals.  Sometimes that gets boring, though, and you just have to start a fight with somebody.
Which is fine. really 'cause in The Reach there's always somebody who's willing to fight about something.

There are the Voldraadi, who run the place and who are attempting to run the Space Marines and Imperial Guard out of the system.  The Emperor's finest are not budging, but they don't have the strength to launch a direct assault on the Voldraadi capitol of Geminion Prime.  So they content themselves with trying to destabilize the Voldraadi power structure on other planets in the system.  On Geminion Secundus, Imperial loyalists try to help the Space Marines topple the Voldraadi government while powerful Gang Lords attempt to carve their own squalid empires out of the decaying flesh of Voldraadi society.  In and out of the chaos and carnage wander the Orks and the Eldar pirates, the dreaded Void Wasps and the Steel Breeze.  All have clashed with Imperial forces, and are happy to help the conflict continue as long as possible in order to gain the greatest possible profit from it.

Snargrel Barffbagg is fairly exemplary of the hateful Orkish scum who have haunted the Wailing Reach in the last few years.  He is well known to have traded weapons and drugs to Geminion Gangers like Pieter Porque in exchange for human slaves, has fought the Dead Men Space Marines as a mercenary working for the Voldraadi, and is believed to have been behind the infamous raid on the Imperial armory on Nepenthe.  The sooner he is hunted down and made an example of, the better.

Yar!  My first new Space Orks in many a moon!  The oldest Space Orks, the ones that came before they all had the separate plastic arms are my favorite range, and I intend to build my Ork gang more or less exclusively of them.

I tried to match the colors on the boys to those on the old Space Ork Raiders boxed set 'cause I'm very fond of it and tend to wax mighty nostalgic when gazing upon it.

"Let's get 'em, boys!!"

Rogue Trader: Pieter Porque - The Butcher

In one of the innumerable crumbling, post-urban hells of Geminion Secundus, there is a dirty shop in a dark street.  Behind a greasy counter a bright, quick girl with a shock of electric blue hair atop her otherwise naked scalp sells soy-lend cake and fungus bread, the sort of bland and miserable food which is the lot of all but the elite in the Geminions.  But no one comes to the Blue girl for Soy-lend cakes.

They come for the sausages.

 For generations, meat has been a luxury exclusively enjoyed by the ruling Voldradi class, it's production deemed too expensive to permit it's consumption by mere proles.  But a few enterprising individuals, especially on the relative backwater of Geminion Secundus, have managed to do a brisk trade in imported illicit comestibles.  Pieter Porque did well in this forbidden business for some time.  As Voldradi agents began increasingly  to hound him and to interdict his shipments, however, he began to supplement his supply of Pork and other meats with more...readily available stock.  No-one asks exactly what it is in Pieter's sausages these days.  No-one wants to know.  It is enough that it is meat.  No one asks why Pieter has taken to wearing the head of a gigantic boar as a mask.  No one wants to know.  It is enough that he supplies what their famished bodies require.  

And the blue girl?  They say she keeps a little las pistol behind that counter.  And she's quick to use it.  And if she's working the counter, Pieter's sure to be chopping up the goods somewhere in the back, within easy call.  So mind your manners, and don't try anything.  Or you could be the next to go in the grinder.

Here is Pieter with a few of his enforcers.  Pieter runs a small empire in verboten foodstuffs and slaves, which he trades to the Orks for things which are in high demand among the gutter-scum of Geminion Secundus, notably weapons, exotic squigs, and drugs.  The Orks have been mightily impressed by his fighting and trading prowess and by his alarming personal style, and are happy to do business with him.  Some have even expressed an interest in working for him!

Most recent recorded digi-image of the degenerate Ganger Pieter porque.  Bolter-Brother Baddluch , of the Third Company, was interred at the fortress monastery on Ran shortly after the fight in which he captured this image.

Pieter needs a lot of enforcers to help him defend his territory against rival gangs, Voldradi army forces, and, lately the Dead Men Spaces Marines.  The Space Marines are currently attempting to wrest control of the Geminons back from the Rebel Vodradi and launch frequent raids on Geminon Secundus to fly the Emperor's banner, to make contact with loyalist factions, and to wreck as much havoc on the Voldradi power structure as possible.  The Marines don't necessarily have a problem with Pieter's smuggling or his cannibalism, but Pieter, like all the Gangers of the Geminions, sees their appearances as violations of his territory, and a number of vicious clashes have broken out between Pieter's private army and the Emperor's finest.

A brace of desperadoes with auto guns.  Note the good quality prosthetic gear on the pirate to the right...Pieter's loyal soldiers are well cared for.  Such amenities could never be available to Geminons outside the Voldradi ruling caste and their servant class, the Bella Canni.

More of Pieter's deperadoes.  Fit and well-fed, their confident and aggressive bearing is in stark contrast to that of most Geminions.

 Mutation is no less common in the Geminions than anywhere else in the Imperium.  In some cases, it is more so.  The mutant on the left has been struck with the dreaded Bird Feet mutation (see W40k Rogue Trader, pg. 53).  Although useful for anchoring one's self to the ground whilst firing a heavy weapon, such as the las cannon pictured above, it can make it very hard to get a girlfriend.  Perhaps he wears the fetching red fez to distract attention from his deformed lower extremities..

Pieter Porque is only one of a number of notable gangsters operating in the Wailing Reach, wherein the Geminions are situated.  His clashes with Orks, Space Marines and Voldradi alike will be documented here.

"Time fer a chow run!"

K is for Korred

The Korred are part of that large family of mysterious and seldom seen creatures who inhabit many of those abandoned and time-worn dwelling places which are to be found throughout the Western lands.  Innumerable tales and legends surround the doings of these faerie folk.  Many believe them to be the last descendants of lost races whose civilizations were destroyed by the powers of chaos during the long and painful decline of the West.

 Whatever their origin, the Korred concern themselves now mainly with singing and dancing by moonlight, and with random acts of kindness as well as mischief.  The Korred can be helpful friends.  Many tales speak of their giving shelter to adventurers in lost caverns or tombs, casting spells to befuddle monsters and other enemies. or guiding a party through dangerous country.

You will note that Mr. Korred is not standing on the Big Board.  This is because he is in Texas where my unit is having to spend 3 weeks decoupling from the Pentagonal Colossus.  It's the sort of thing that could easily be achieved in about 3 days, but it's the government, so everything takes seven times as long as it should.  I knew I'd have a lot of time on my hands while I was here, so I brought Mr. Korred and some other friends, mostly Rogue Trader types.  Well, I'm going to take Mr. Korred out for a sandwich.  Hope to check in tomorrow with a finished squad of space scum for my long-neglected Rogue Trader campaign.