Thursday, 28 January 2016

WIP Wyvern

Hi Everyone! 

I've been working on the Wyvern for my guard and it is coming along nicely. Hopefully it shouldn't be too long before it is done!

Took me plenty of trial and error but by the end I'm very pleased with the display screen, I initially painted it all very light and then started darkening it dark angels green and black mixes with green and black glazes. 

Here you can see how it will roughly look with the Praetorian gunner and the mortars attached. Then rest of the tank should be relatively straightforward to paint. It will of course feature the customary freehand that all my armoured elements have. 

Id love to know what you all think!

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

Sworn to protect...

A few more photos of Nork and the colonels command squad which he will join.

After viewing him with the unit and taking into consideration the feedback on previous posts I made a few changes. I altered the colour on the helmet band to match the command HQ and also added some extra freehand which you will see in the following photos.

As all the human members of the command HQ wear red sashes I thought Nork needed an Ogryn equivalent. But lets be honest, I don't think a sash would last long. As a result I decided to paint a red stripe on the armour as an ogryn compromise which also allows him to keep up to speed with Praetorian uniform regulations.

The green, blue and purple are all details colours that you will see throughout the army. 

Perhaps its not apparant from the photos but I applied more red shading to the scar but I think it's been lost a bit in the photo light.

All in all I'm rather pleased how he turned out! When I next play a game of 40k I will most definitely be taking him, which may well mean putting the Colonel in harms way... theres no point taking him if he can't bash something! 

Right, on to the next thing to paint... perhaps it's time to paint the Wyvern...

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

Finished Praetorian Nork Deddog

Hi everyone!

The new year is so far turning out to be a good one hobby-wise for me. I've managed to get some more paint on Nork and bar the base (and any possible freehand) he is completed. 

I'd love to hear your thoughts.


Saturday, 9 January 2016

WIP Nork Deddog

A belated happy new year everyone!

Just to let you know I'm still alive and kicking and after a very slow year of hobby I'm hoping things will pick up in 2016.

I'll post more soon but till then a couple of WIP of Nork...

Still to paint on him are the knife, the gun, the cigar and the skull speaker. Maybe also some freehand...

Monday, 5 October 2015

Second Siege of Agratha - Aftermath Part 4

Gorblud awoke to a blurry image of a sky filled with dust and thick black smoke. As his vision swam in to focus he slowly sat up, noticing pangs of pain all over his body. He could hear some distant sounds of gunfire but upon looking around he didn't appear to be in any imminent danger.

Gorblud saw that he was lying at the foot of wrecked tank and a thin smile appeared on his face as he remembered tearing the turret off it and killing all the humans inside with blazes from his shoota (and a few stikkbombs for good measure). From quick observation it appeared his armour was burnt, broken and split all over - his power klaw a ruin of fused metal. It would take his meks a long while to fix it once he got it back to camp.

He pulled himself out of his armour, deciding it would be easier to drag back to his wagon than to try and walk in it without the hydraulics working. It was only then that he noticed the large crater in the side of his chest oozing dark blood. It appeared to be a mostly cauterised plasma burn - he should probably get the Docs to have a look at that.

As he strolled through the mounds of dead - some piled higher than his head, others shredded so that it was difficult to tell what body parts they had originally - he took note that both sides had taken heavy losses. Gorblud also realised he had quite a few more injuries that he hadn't initially noticed. For starters his left eye definitely wasn't working - when he reached up to check if it was still there all he could feel was a bloody crater in the side of his skull. He also appeared to have a hole straight through one of his thighs (probably a lascannon he thought) and even he was surprised he could still walk on it.

After a while of dragging his armour through rubble, corpses and miscellaneous vehicle parts he eventually reached his wagon. He was pleased to see that the grot crew were finished repairing the broken track that had made him abandon the vehicle mid-battle, however many hours ago it was now.

"What's the plan boss?" one of the crew asked in his high pitched sqeak as he entered the cabin.

"Back to the camp - we's got work to do!" Gorblud replied.

"But what about the city? Didn't we win the battle?" screeched the grot.

"Ha! You call this winning?" Gorblud reprimanded. "Leave Braindead to celebrate his ruin - there's nothing for us here. I came here for Winterborne, and the bugger didn't even show his face on the front lines! Send word to gather the boyz and our stuff - we're leaving!"

"Erm, sir..." one of the grotz said hesitantly, "the... the Stompa... the humans sabotaged it... there's nothing left..."

Gorblud just stared at the grot - fury building behind his one remaining eye.

"Er... and it also appears that... that the Deathskulls, they... they stole your Skulhamma..."

While deep in a moment of utter fury, Gorblud still managed a tiny moment of pleasure as he saw the grot sail clear over a ruined wartrakk and land in the burning wreck of a wagon - it was definitely one of his finer kicks he thought. The moment was quickly over though, and he glared at the remaining gretchin who were now literally cowering behind whatever meagre shelter was closest to them.

"GET US BACK TO THE CAMP NOW!" he roared "we'ze got some serious building to do!"

It would be a while before his army was back to strength he thought, but he knew he had the teef and the power to recover from this. He'd build a better Stompa and a better Skulhamma. He might even build one of them flying jets the kult of speed had used - that had caused loads of chaos before the humies shot it out of the sky.

He wasn't finished. He just needed a bit of time to gather some more boyz. And maybe get some more of those force field things - those would be useful against that human artillery.

Just a little more time... then Winterborne would get what was coming to him!

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Second Siege of Agratha - Aftermath Part 3

The ride was bumpy as hell, but that wasn't going stop Raknor enjoying it. He looked around the cramped compartment of the Trukk and could see the same grim enjoyment on the faces of the hulking Nobs surrounding him. They'd snuck around the Imperial lines now, and should be hitting the humie artillery emplacements any moment. He'd have to congratulate Nask for his Kommandos' work on discovering this unguarded route - the humies wouldn't know what hit 'em!

Raknor squinted as the Trukk broke through the tree-line and daylight streamed in to the cabin. This was it - time to chop up these humie wretches and make Gorblud proud.

The trukk skreetched to a bone-jarring halt, but Raknor and his squad were used to the exuberance of ork drivers and needed no time to regain their balance before leaping over the front and sides of the cabin.

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Big shootas opened up to the left and right of the hulking Warboss as his boots hit the dirt and he broke immediately in to a run. Belcher, his attack squig, squeeled in annoyance as he was thrown off his perch on Raknor's shoulder guard to swing briefly on his chain before scrambling back up again.

It was only after he'd taken several steps that Raknor realised something was wrong. The Imperial lines were still a hundred yards away - the Trukks had stopped too soon! Almost as soon as this thought had gone through his head enemy fire started whipping around him. It was panicky and poorly aimed, but Raknor could already see the enemy forming more organised ranks - it would be mere moments before the ork offence would come under serious fire. Raknor sped-up, urging his fellow Orks to run alongside him.

The Imperial fire intensified and orks began to fall. A large tank straight ahead spat out round after round of large calibre ammunition, mowing down orks wherever the guns were directed. Raknor, began to get worried - there was still a lot of ground to cover and there was a lot of firepower now directed at them.

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A huge roar overhead announced the arrival of Mytox and his stormboyz. Raknor looked on in dismay as he realised they had misjudged the jump distance and landed too far in front of the Imperial lines. They were almost instantly being cut to pieces by concentrated fire from a number of Imperial units. Curse those trukk boys, they'd caused this mess!

The death of the stormboyz was sorry loss, but a welcome diversion Raknor realised, as they had probably bought his squad enough time to reach the Imperial front lines. He looked left and right. The losses had been heavy, but not near enough to stop the charge - they could still win glory after all!

He took a large intake of breath and then let loose an almost ground shaking roar.


With uncontrolled enthusiasm his fellow orks joined in, bellowing and sprinting as fast as their bowed legs could carry them. He noticed with satisfaction as Durog and his bikerz hit the Imperial lines first, driving nearly full-speed into the human infantry while spraying shells and swinging choppas.

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Just before Raknor's own unit hit the Imperial lines, a human squad in bright orange fatigues bravely sprayed them with undisciplined las fire as they closed the last few yards. Raknor signalled to his squad to take out the big tank while he dealt with this little annoyance.

The first two humans went down to a burst of fire from his gauntlet mounted shoota - their thin armour no match for his high calibre shells. The next one was cleaved in two by a mighty sweep of his huge choppa which sent the top half of the body sailing a good 15 feet in a beautiful parabola while spraying his comrades with blood.

The next imperial jumped forwards and tried to skewer Raknor with his bayonet, but his clumsy strike was easily parried by Raknor's gauntlet shortly before his head was chopped cleanly off.

Raknor knocked the next human off his feet with the head of his choppa before he could bring his lasgun to bear. Raknor then rapidly deflected the bayonet of another before slicing him from naval to collar in one easy stroke. With each blow he struck Raknor was more invigorated, the power unit of his enhanced choppa seeming to thrum with more energy the more lives it took. He vaguely noticed his squad of Nobs tearing open hatches and lobbing stikkbombs in to the tank to his left, but he was now far too deep in to the thrall of violent combat to pay it much heed.

He only paused when all around him seemed to be dead - orange clad body parts littering the ground around him. He let out a bellowing laugh at the sheer joy of combat.

As he turned to look for new foes a searing pain seared through his chest. Sharply jerking away he heard an awful crunching noise and the pain flared into a brief moment of agony. Looking down he saw the end of a chainsword buried in the armour of his chest plate and broken off at the hilt. One of the orange humans was still alive and had seized an opportunity to attack while Raknor was distracted.

While Raknor was still in shock the human tried slam the broken handle of his sword into the huge ork’s face, but pure instinct made the warboss evade enough to cause a mere glancing blow to his chin.

Raknor quickly recovered his wits, realising the injury was nothing the Doks wouldn't be able to sort out in short order. He took measure of his foe and realised he had nothing further to worry about. The fool had disarmed himself of his most dangerous weapon by stupidly stabbing his opponent with a chain weapon intended for slicing.

In one easy move Raknor knocked the human to the ground with the haft of his choppa before raising it up for the killing blow. He paused briefly to appreciate the kill, giving the human a grim smile as he lay sprawled in a small furrow of mud and dirt.

Just as Raknor started the final downward swing a blindingly bright flash appeared to his left, instantly followed by a searing pain at his neck. His vision blurred and he felt a huge wave of disorientation as the sound of the massive explosion reached his ears.

A moment later his world stopped spinning and his vision slowly came back. The pain at his neck had gone away as quickly as it had arrived, and even the pain in his chest seemed to have abated.

He could see the massive wreck that had been the heavy tank and a couple of his nobz staggering away from its recent cataclysmic explosion. Nearer he saw a human in orange fatigues struggle to his feet under the shadow of a hulking ork figure. The human gently pushed the ork and the body toppled helpless and headless to the floor.

A grim realisation came to Raknor as he recognised the armour and weaponry of the felled ork. Well, no wonder the pain in his chest had gone – his chest was now several feet from his head. As his vision blurred and he drifted in to unconsciousness all he could think was ‘I really hope there is a bluddy dok nearby . . .’

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