Thursday, 17 January 2019

D&D: Challenge Update Two


Another group of miniatures all painted up. Three old GW single piece Chaos Warriors and a Wizkids Marvel Heroclix figure. 


Different coloured boots to pick out the warriors.


A bit of repainting and a lot of wash work to bring out all the great details on this figure.




Think they could be used in a variety of ways, quite pleased how they look for a bit of speed painting.


I have a small Reaper Dragon and some old GW Dark Elves next.

Monday, 14 January 2019

Cottage Revamp Two: Update 2


Moving on to the roof in this second update. Well the gable ends at least and the chimney. I did have a bit of a go at the tiles but didn't do them deep enough, will post more on them another time.


The back end.



First attempts at sculpting the timbers on the gable end.





Stone work compete on the front gable end, just wood work to finish.



Timbers to finish next and then onto the roof tiles last. That should be the basic structure all done,

Friday, 11 January 2019

D&D: Challenge Update One

Finally got my finger out and started painting the basic model list I put together for my son. Here are the very old Beastmen from GW, and a Reaper Bones Minotaur.


Tom if you are viewing this, stop now son, listen to your father.



I've tried to paint some little details varying colours so they can be easily differentiated during the course of play.


Basically I'll be painting just 3 general models that can be used in a variety of ways and a more characterful larger model that could be used with them.




Reaper Minotaur with its weapons removed. Can't remember why I did that but they seem to have been lost. Think he's OK without them though.


Next up will be some chaos warriors and a leader of some sort.

Tuesday, 8 January 2019

Crystal/Rock formations


Against my better judgement I began using cork to build some terrain once more. However these are quite different, smaller and much easier to control. The last pieces I made with cork were the large area terrain pieces which I gave away to WWarriors almost immediately. However the moderate success I had with the Golem made from cork last week spurred me onwards.


These already seam a lot stronger and will be easier to store with a wider range of uses.


They were glued onto cat food box card, what else is there, with some thick PVA glue.



With the base sanded.






So I started making another, having kept all the corks we have ever used for the last decade!


I think I will be aiming for 8 in the end.

Saturday, 5 January 2019

D&D: Pfisten Goblin Monk Back Story

This is the back story my son recently wrote for his new Goblin Monk character, Pfisten, I liked it so much I decided to include it here.

Pfisten: Back Story

Born into a small tribe of mountain-dwelling goblinoids, Pfisten was a source of disappointment and bewilderment to his already low-status family. His obvious distaste for such traditional goblin pursuits as kidnapping, torturing, enslaving and devouring people from nearby valley settlements was a mystery to his parents, Tungle and Spenk, and an irritation to Kar'nith Drax, his tribe's hobgoblin general, who struggled to find a use for him. His racially uncharacteristic ethical streak and tendency towards mercy would have been easy to dismiss as softness, were it not for the fact that there could be no doubts as to his capacity to take a beating. Many of his peers, confused by his moral quirks, responded to them with bullying, derision, and violence. No matter how many there were, or how vicious the beating, Pfisten always got back up.

 One day, whilst carrying out his duty of foraging for toadstools for Ruurgul Drax, the tribe's hobgoblin wizard, Pfisten came upon a hidden monastery, tucked away in the mountain range. Intrigued, he crept to the windows and peered inside. There, he saw a large, ornately carved hall, filled with pinkskins. One in particular seemed to be instructing the others in some curious dance, and Pfisten was transfixed. He stayed for hours, not leaving until the class was over, even attempting to imitate the moves himself. That night, Ruurgul beat him savagely for taking too long to gather toadstools. Nevertheless, Pfisten said nothing of the monastery; knowing full well that if the hobgoblins learned of its existence, they would want to raid it for slaves and riches.

Over the years that followed, Pfisten grabbed every opportunity to return to the monastery, taking great care each time not to be seen by its inhabitants. He learned that the teacher was Sister Penelo, and that she was instructing her students in martial arts. However, there was no mention of any plans to use them to raid or subjugate other tribes. The men and women of the monastery were of a peaceful inclination, and seemed only interested in being able to protect their mountain sanctuary, and those unable to protect themselves. These alien philosophies appealed to the young goblin, who diligently imitated, practiced and remembered everything Sister Penelo said and did. He was struck by the kindness with which she treated her subordinates, and how their willingness to fulfil her instructions stemmed from respect, not from fear. It was a style of leadership he had not encountered until now. Fascinated, Pfisten spent longer and longer at the windows of the monastery, even digging a small burrow on the grounds in which he could sleep if he stayed too late. Ruurgul seemed content for his charge to take two and even three-day foraging trips, provided he got his toadstools.

 One day, perhaps two years after Pfisten's chance discovery of the monastery, he arrived to find a ceremony taking place in the great hall. Sister Penelo was calling her students to her, one by one. Each would approach her, bow, and receive a white sash identical to the one that she wore at her waist. When every student was freshly adorned with the symbol of their achievement, Sister Penelo still held one in her hands. "My brave students," she announced, smiling; "You have worked hard, every one of you, and you all have grown so strong, so wise, so large of heart. I am proud to have known you. But there is one among you who has yet to receive his honours." At this, she turned to face the window, and looked directly at Pfisten. "Come, little greenskin. You have worked as hard as any here. I have seen. This is for you." Shocked, and embarrassed to learn that his efforts to remain unseen had been in vain, Pfisten at first found himself rooted to the spot. Drawing a deep breath, he steeled himself, and with heavy boots and trembling hands, he climbed in through the window.

Inside the monastery, the air was cool and still. He felt his classmate's eyes on him, but it was not unpleasant. Some seemed surprised to see him, others less so, but none of them looked on him with distrust or malice. The atmosphere as he crossed the stone floor was a new one to him; one of recognition, and of acceptance. Sister Penelo smiled broadly at him as she held out the final white sash for him to take. Hesitantly, he reached out a green little hand, and as his fingers closed around the silken fabric, Sister Penelo said, barely louder than a whisper; "I know you will do it justice." At that moment, her smile froze, and an arrowhead emerged from her right eye. A small spatter of blood flecked the sash in Pfisten's hands, and Sister Penelo tumbled soundlessly to the ground. Seconds later, the large doors of the hall burst open, and a slew of hobgoblin raiders mounted on wolves barrelled in, brandishing blades and howling war-cries, as scouts with bows and vicious curved hunting knives climbed in through the windows. Instantly, Pfisten understood that he had been followed. Of course. Ruurgul had grown suspicious of his lengthy foraging excursions, and had had him tracked. The freshly anointed students fought bravely, but they were outnumbered, caught off-guard, and demoralised by the sudden death of their master. They were slaughtered.

 Pfisten escaped the massacre, fleeing to his burrow. He hoped the raiding party would leave without him once they'd plundered the monastery. He had no such luck. They squatted in the trashed hall; looting anything not nailed down, drinking the mead brewed by the monks, and cooking and devouring the dead. They quickly found his hiding place, but were unable to come in and get him due to their larger size. So, they built an enormous bonfire next to his burrow, on which they burned anything they deemed unworthy of stealing, and roasted the bodies of Sister Penelo and her students. For five days they taunted him, blowing smoke into his tiny, overheating burrow, and occasionally tossing scraps of the charred flesh of his classmates into the hole, for the 'ground goblin'. To his shame, on the fourth day, he eventually ate.

On the eve of the fifth day, deciding the hobgoblins had no plans to leave him to mourn in peace, Pfisten made to escape. He waited until they were drunk on mead and fast asleep, and crept from his burrow; delirious, starving and bereft. He barely made it beyond the light of the campfire's embers before the hobgoblin on night watch spotted and seized him, waking the others. They beat him senseless for an hour. He thought they would beat him to death, and, indeed, he eventually blacked out, fading gladly into oblivion for, he thought, the last time.

He awoke at dawn. His knuckles smarting, he lifted his hands to inspect them and to block out the sun, and found them swollen, bruised, and slathered with blood. More blood than he himself could possibly afford to have lost. He sat up in the charred grass, and gazed at the scene of fresh carnage that surrounded him. The grounds were littered with dead hobgoblins. He explored, and found more inside. None of them bore stab wounds, all seemed to have been killed by sustained blunt force trauma. Confused, and reeling from the implications of what he was seeing, Pfisten gathered what provisions he could and made to leave. At the edge of the monastery's grounds, movement in the grass caught his eye. One of the hobgoblins whom he had presumed dead was breathing shallow but steady breaths. Pfisten recognised him as Gnarl'ath Drax, a low-ranking raider. As Pfisten approached, a look of terror passed over Gnarl'ath's face, and he attempted to push himself away, over the bloodied grass. His yellow eyes fixed on Pfisten's, he opened his mouth, but all he seemed able to utter was: "G... ground goblin!" In a blind panic, Pfisten ran; from the monastery, from the mountain range he had never left, and from his old life.

 Desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and his past, he travelled quickly, quietly, and alone; stopping only to beg or steal enough food to keep him walking. In the towns and villages where his kind were less welcome, he wore his dark hood up, and used the bloodied white sash Sister Penelo gave him to cover his face. Within a week, he reached the coast, where he said his goodbyes to his homeland, and stowed away on the first ship he saw.

Tom Hunt

Thursday, 3 January 2019

Cottage Revamp Number Two


A different approach for this second revamping of a cottage I made quite some time ago now. This time, instead of relying on my "use odds and ends" sort of approach I've gone for a "practice your modelling skills" method.


I started with GS, but took to using Fimo, self drying clay with PVA added.


The effect was similar to the GS, but the amount I got done in the same time was ridiculous, by which I mean I belted through it. So it is method of choice at the moment. Das self drying clay with PVA added will be my next experiment.


Above shows what the stone work looked like before I started, huge blocks made from cereal card and not very realistic at all really. To think I was really happy with them when I made then, pah!

All the walls on the first floor are complete and I will be looking at the roof section next as I am going to try modelling the wooden shingles. Then I will return to the first floor and model the wood on the beams.


Sunday, 30 December 2018

D&D: Reaper Kobolds

In my odd moments I have been painting a small set of Reaper miniatures, namely Kobolds.
I have to say I was very surprised just how small they were and how little detail there was, but they were not expensive so I really can't complain.





I used sand and glue over card for the bases. 



I have never been very good at removing mould lines from figures and these have some interesting examples especially across their heads.


The colours were intentionally muted and I didn't use a wide variety of them, but then I never do.