Der Greiche, Chaos Thug

As the strange, masked figure approached camp,  Shak'nar knew his growing fame was spreading far across the chaos wastes. The Gods had told him that more followers would be flocking to his command and here was the proof of their generosity. Shak'nar returned the focus of this thoughts back to the warrior approaching. His helmet sported an impressive horse hair crest, indicating he must possess some skill, that crest would attract too much attention to survive in the chaos wastes without some skill. He was mostly armored, but his exposed arms were a swarthy color Shak'nar did not recognize...clearly the stranger had wandered a long distance to arrive at this place. Shak'nar also admired the leering demon face on his shield. Shak'nar smiled beneath his helm in triumph. "Soon..." he though, "Soon, I shall topple the world."

Sandstorm Wars Review--Part 2

"Not all who worship the plague god gain the mutations of the truly devout. That is not to say that they are no less fervent in their devotion, but they lack the strength of will to attract the attention of their dark patron. But these cultists are the most worrisome, for they can blend in with the imperial masses to plot and scheme."

-Excerpt from the Reports of Inquisitor Corrigan, 3 226 765.M38

A lone guardsman calls in an airstrike after a cult overruns his squad's position

Sandstorm Wars Review--Part 1

"And when the Plague God show favors upon those humans that flock to his cults, he sometimes bestows upon them mutations to make the cultists resemble the Plague Marines who's aid they pray for. Even though they look like the dreaded heretic Astartes, they are not. But they do posses greater strength and resilience then regular humans."

-Excerpt from the Reports of Inquisitor Corrigan, 3 226 765.M38

A VERY large cultist heavy weapon trooper

Iron Warrior Cultists

"Get to work ya wretches!" barked the overseer as he gunned the engine on his chainblade. The half-witted slaves continued working, too simple to understand the overseer's orders. Nor did he expect them to. As the only one who's brain was not surgically altered, his shouts were to help his own anger at the lack of progress because he knew his neck was on the line if the slaves did not complete their tasks to the Warsmith's liking. 

The Mud Demon of Ottersricht

"I thrive under pressure, go tough when it gets hot,

but when I have too much water, I'll kind of lose the plot,

Every snotty pig I see just rubs in my Face,

because I am underdog, and they think that they are ace!

My body gets sore, due to jumps and bumps galore."

-Czu'shrul Qogdand Clawkeeper, the thing in the bog

"I was minding my own business, hunting game in the marshes, when I stumbled upon this thing, with giant paws, lifting up the muck and slapping it all over itself. I dunno what it was, but it was happier than a pig in shit."

-Otto, local drunkard

Krunk and Smegmoos

Armed with a complete lack of conscience, the ability to squeeze the jelly out of a man's skull between only his thumb and forefinger...

What is there to say about Krunk the Barbarian? A legend in life, he was a mountain of muscle who could crush ten lesser beings with a single mighty blow of his magical great axe, Primrose. With oiled, rippling thews and a wanton disregard for personal space and property rights, Krunk wandered the empire and beyond shedding copious amounts of blood and amassing untold treasure that he threw away on bad dice, worse women, and truly atrocious booze as quickly as he amassed it. Thus armed with a complete lack of conscience, the ability to squeeze the jelly out of a man's skull between only his thumb and forefinger, and the brainpower of a toadstool, Krunk imposed himself upon the world. When Krunk arrived in Karr-Keel it looked like the perfect night to triple up on Ye Olde Combatte Burgers’ quad-patty meal and get into a couple of rousing bar fights. But, fortune didn't have Krunk's back on the Mayor's birthday, and the Necroburgher's curse hit just as he was ruthlessly pummeling the former occupants of his favorite table at the Westgate Ye Olde Combatte Burgers. Now, he wanders the ruins of Karr-Keel, a hulking form, rotting and even more mindless, forever seeking the thrill of combat and the mountain of burgers he never got to eat.

Saul, the Creepy Clown

"Another performance finished," thought Saul, wearily. He's been living the life of a travelling performer since he ran away from home all those years ago. He spent the evening performing, then spent most of the night cleaning up after the performance; only to rise early to pack up and move on to the next town. It was a hard life. But it kept him busy--it helped him not to think about those...urges. The ones that pops used to beat him for. "I hope that sonovabitch died painfully," he brooded. 

Snapping back to reality, Saul got back to scrubbing the grease paint off. The ugly light bulb overhead hurt his eyes as it reflected off of the paint. After all these years, that shit had started to stain his skin. "Can't be good for me," he mused as he glared at the red reflection of his cheeks in the mirror. "One of these days, I'm going to finally give this traveling up..."

Brother Ignatius of the Dark Angels, Fourth Company

“Cloud Runner gazed on the wreckage of his home and felt like weeping. He closed his eyes and took three breaths, but when he looked again, nothing had changed. He turned back towards the dropship Deathwing.

Weasel-Fierce had just descended from the ramp. He gazed round ferally at what once had been Cloud Runner’s village and brought his storm bolter into attack position. A grin split his skull-like face.

‘Dark Angels, be wary. Death has walked here,’ he said. The sun glistened off Weasel-Fierce’s black Terminator armour. With his white hair and Y-shaped scar-tattoos, he looked like the Eater of Bones come back to claim the world.”

-William King, Deathwing

Sigvald the Magnificent

"Sickly, sinful, spectacles stand, shuffle, shamble and saunter shamelessly in mine scandalized sight! I suggest a solution... Surely such sedition should sour and succumb to Sigvald - the salacious, scandalous and sensational servant of Slaanesh! Son of Succubi, scion of sordid acts and slayer of squalid serfs! See how I stroll, stride, swagger and swirl, spin, slash and stab at stupid, senseless scum! Soon they shall swoon, shall seek solace and death from sundry torments wrought on them by my strategic, severing, scintillating shower of shimmering strikes! Send for the sword - summon Sliverslash!"

-Prince Sigvald, addressing his warhost (from Total War:Warhammer)

Finished the Fyrd

And let the heriots be as it is fitting to the degree. An eorl's such as thereto belongs, that is, eight horses, four saddled and four unsaddled, and four helmets and four coats of mail, and eight spears and as many shields, and four swords and 200 mancuses of gold. And after that, a king's thegn's, of those who are nearest to him; four horses, two saddled and two undo saddled, and two swords and four spears and as many shields, and a helmet and a coat of mail and fifty mancuses of gold. And of the medial thegns, a horse and his trappings and his arms; or his healsfang in Wessex; and in Mercia two pounds, and in East Anglia two pounds. And the heriot of a king's thegn among the Danes, who has his soken, four pounds. And if he have further relation to the king, two horses, one saddled and the other unsaddled, and one sword and two spears and two shields and fifty mancuses of gold; and he who is of less means, two pounds.

-From the Laws of Cnut

My Anglo-Danish army in all it's glory

Susie Sue, the Banshee

In the swamps that surround Ottersricht, they say there are places even the mutants won't go--places where the dead return to steal the souls of the living!

-Jurgen Oppenheimer, Ottersricht merchant

Morning Wood

Titans on the hunt

Not much of an update today as I've got a cold. Grrr. Finished some woods for Epic and other small scale battles. They're just small trees from Noch on hardboard and some static grass.

A platoon of Imperial Guard begin exiting their Chimeras to array for battle

Limpin' Jimmy and Daisy

Jimmy was the bosun and powder master on the Woebegone, a massive three-masted pirate ship that plied its bloody trade on the Pearl Sea between the empire and its far eastern tributaries

The King's Psychopathic Peacocks

The people who are using the kit of this quality are, it is Kevin Lee, he he came up with the memorable phrase that they're, what you see here are the psychopathic peacocks around the king and I can't think of a better description [] these are the serious, professional killers who the king wants on his side, close to him as his personal warrior band so he rewards them, they’re the people who have all this kit, the fact I have all this kit immediately says: ‘I am a high-status, serious warrior’ and it expresses their status and how dangerous they are. It’s the second you see somebody with this kit, you know who you’re dealing with

-David Symons on The British History Podcast, Episode 71 (used with permission)

Painting with Banshee

If you are in the Decimus system, you do not go to the planet Septimus unless you are desperate. If you must go to Septimus, avoid the hive of Septimus Prime. But if you do find yourself in that hive, whatever you do, stay away from the red-light district of that Emperor-forsaken cesspit. Should you end up in the red-light district, under no circumstances should you enter one of the many "gentleman's" clubs. And should the circumstances arrive that you find yourself in such a club, do not, under any circumstances, touch the performers for the Ogryn Bouncers are renowned through the system for their ferocity.

-Imperial Infantryman's Guide to Planet-Side Leave

Ruug blinked a little as the red lights on the club's door flashed furiously in  his eye and took a deep drag on his lho-gar. Then he grunted knowing he was about to teach this piss-ant hummie why you don't touch the girls...

Anfeald, Anglo-Saxon Warrior

The vikings had burned his village and carted off most of his people to be taken to the slave markets in Dublin. But he and his hunting party had been out when the village was attacked and Anfeald vowed he would get his revenge. When he realized that there were still a few stragglers from the viking war band still loitering around, Anfeald hatched a plan. He would lie in weight in the burned out ruins of his farmstead until one of them came close...then the northman would find Saxon steel buried in the back of his head. 

Anfeald defends the ruins of his farmstead from Hrolf and Snorre

Plegg Marines!

Nogrod looked in horror at the thing approaching him. "How could one of our champions shun it's fellow squats to embrace the ruinous powers?" the though as he flicked the switch on his autogun to full auto. He confidently took aim and fired, release a series of rapid fire shots that each hit it squarely in the chest. The horror of seeing this abomination quickly turned into shock  as it continued to approach him. He'd put enough bullets into it to drop a mature flignox and this thing wasn't even phased...

Zombie Little Dyer

Apprenticeship in the Imperial Advertisers Guild started younger than most. Turned over to the guild's guardianship as early as four years old, most guild children were deployed for the betterment of imperial advertising as sign boys. Specially trained to carry heavy wooden placards to the front and back suspended by ropes over their shoulders, sign boys were contracted out to local businesses, government offices, and anyone else who felt the need to announce something, like an impending wedding, a birth, or the end of the world. Of all the sign boys in the guild's Karr-Keel branch, Little Dyer was the best. Through the oppressive heat of the summer, the driving rains of fall, the ice and snow of winter, and the general muckiness of spring, he could be depended upon to stand in place or walk a beat with his signs proudly displayed upon his chest and back. The guild expected great things of Little Dyer, and, when he grew beyond his role, there was no doubt that he would become a journeyman advertiser. Of course, the Necroburgher's curse ended all of that, and Little Dyer now wanders the crumbling remains of Karr-Keel, still bearing the burden of the last sign he ever carried. Who would have thought that an advertisement for The End Tavern stating "The End is Nigh" with an arrow pointing down the street would be so prophetic...

Zombies of Karr-Keel -- Johannes, Ravenna, and Medolf

Battle at the Farm

The planet of Rynn's World lies on the edge of human space, within easy striking range of countless Ork Warlords that rule the neighboring systems. Orks are loathsome and disorganized aliens, creatures with little intelligence and no sense of pity. Until now, Rynn's World has been left in peace. The main reason for this is almost certainly that it is home fo the Crimson Fists Chapter of Space marines - who's fortress/monastery has stood on the rocky soil of Rynn's World for over a thousand years. However, last week the planet was invaded by a force from the Ork Empire of Charadon. The insane Ork Warlord, one Snagrod the Arch-arsonist, has already conquered the human world of Badlanding, not to mention several minor Ork Empires. Rynn's World is only sparsely populated, but (prior to the invasion) had a complete and effective missile-defense system designed to deter would be invaders. Confident in the power of their defenses (and forgetting the irrational behavior of Orks) no-one anticipated the invasion. Even so, all would have been well were it not for the freak accident that caused a defense missile to glance off-course and plunge down right on top of the Space Marine Arsenal. The Marine base and its complement of fighting men and machines was completely destroyed. The only survivors were the Chapter leader Commander Pedro Cantor and fifteen Marines. Without the Marines the human settlers were quickly slain and their townships overrun. Now only the Planet's capital, New Rynn City, remains in human hands. 

The Crimson Fists (painted by Bulldog Lopez) man the ruins of an old farmstead and await the Orks...

Harakka, Dwarf Warrior

Harakka marched into the bandit's camp. As a follower of elgra-thrynaz, he was here to make mischief. But like any good follower of this path, he sowed the seeds of his trouble-making long before making himself known to the bandits. First, he loosed their horses. Then, he snuck into their supplies and dispersed their food. Finally, he helped himself to their treasure. Oh, and the booby-traps. You can't forget the booby-traps. But now that this heavily armed and armored dwarf made himself known, the real fun would begin...

Corridors amongst the Immaterium Sargassum

So I went away for a vacation for a couple of weeks. But I'm back, and with more terrain!

Anglo-Danish Warlord

A.D. 1016. King Edmund had ere this gone out, and invaded the West-Saxons, who all submitted to him; and soon afterward he fought with the enemy at Pen near Gillingham. A second battle he fought, after midsummer, at Sherston; where much slaughter was made on either side, and the leaders themselves came together in the fight.[] 

Then collected he his force the third time, and went to London, all by north of the Thames, and so out through Clayhanger, and relieved the citizens, driving the enemy to their ships. It was within two nights after that the king went over at Brentford; where he fought with the enemy, and put them to flight: but there many of the English were drowned, from their own carelessness; who went before the main army with a design to plunder. 

After this the king went into Wessex, and collected his army; but the enemy soon returned to London, and beset the city without, and fought strongly against it both by water and land.

But the almighty God delivered them.

-The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle

Terrain Fixers

Giuseppe Alegari made it through the clearing, only to freeze in place. Piero, the explorer immediately behind him, clattered into him, but that did not budge Giuseppe. Piero looked up to see the remains of a ruined temple, covered in obscene runes that made his eyes hurt. Then he noticed that the altar was covered in blood. Fresh blood. "We should not be here," mumbled Piero quietly to Giuseppe. That was the last thing he ever said.

Ya'ng'w, the King-Slicer

And behold, for I have come unto thee from distant shores, guided by the Gods supplicate at your feet. Although I have cloven the kings of Ind in twain, the gods have directed me to follow thine righteous path. For alone, I have driven the people of the East to pay tribute in the very gold used to forge mine armor and more. But the Gods have foretold that in your service, the whole world shall tremble for our might!

-Ya'ng'w, at the introduction to Shak'nar the Indomitable

Zombies of Karr-Keel -- Grunhelda and Waddrup

Grunhelda Boogenhagen was a broom dealer on the west end of Market Street. New, used, and factory refurbished, Grunhelda sold all makes and models of brooms from her well-tended stall, and offered to those that could afford it her coveted bespoke broom-making and repair services. Neither rich nor powerful, she was closing up her stall to go and watch the Mayor's fireworks display when the Necroburgher's curse struck. Now a shambling corpse, Grunhelda wanders Karr-Keel collecting any brooms she happens upon as the town falls into ruin around her.

Crimson Fist

The invasion of Rynns World by the Ork Warlord Snagrod the Arch-arsonist of Charadon came as no surprise to anyone. In fact, Snagrod's eternal boasting about his conquest of the neighboring system of Badlanding had come to the attention of even Commander Pedro Cantor, Chapter Leader of the Crimson Fist Space Marines. But, in common with the rest of the population, the Marine leader had always maintained that, 'it couldn't happen here,' and that, 'no stinking little Ork Warlord was going to mess with the Crimson Fists.' In common with the rest of the population he was dead wrong. If Cantor had taken the Ork's threats a little more seriously things might have been different, if the planet's defenses had even been at full alert things would certainly have been different, and had the stray defence missile not fallen to the ground directly on top of the Marine's Arsenal things would have been very different indeed. For one thing, Cantor wouldn't be holed up from the night in a burnt out farm, waiting for an opportune moment to sneak into New Rynn City--the largest settlement on the world and the only one still in human hands. The Ork patrols had passed increasingly frequently as the surviving Marines approached the city, and it was inevitable that sooner or later they would have to fight.

-Rogue Trader, Battle at the Farm

The Answer to the Norman Conundrum, or Crusaders!

But Bohemund, powerful in battle, who was engaged in the siege of Amalfi on the sea of Salerno, heard that a countless host of Christians from among the Franks had come to go to the Sepulcher of the Lord, and that they were prepared for battle against the pagan horde. He then began to inquire closely what fighting arms these people bore, and what sign of Christ they carried on the way, or what battle-cry they shouted. The following replies were made to him in order: "They bear arms suitable for battle; on the right shoulder, or between both shoulders, they wear the cross of Christ; the cry, 'God wills it! God wills it ! God wills it !' they shout in truth with one voice." Moved straightway by the Holy Spirit, he ordered the most precious cloak which he had with him cut to pieces, and straightway he had the whole of it made into crosses. Thereupon, most of the knights engaged in that siege rushed eagerly to him, so that Count Roger remained almost alone.

Returning again to his own land, Lord Bohemund diligently prepared himself to undertake in true earnest the journey to the Holy Sepulcher. At length, he crossed the sea with his army. With him were Tancred, son of Marchisus, Richard of Principati, and Rainulf, his brother, Robert of Anse, Herman of Cannae, Robert of Surda Valley, Robert, son of Tostanus, Hunfred, son of Raoul, Richard, son of Count Rainulf, the Count of Roscignoio, with his brothers, Boellus of Chartres, Albered of Cagnano, and Hunfred of Mt. Scaglioso. All of these crossed the sea to do service for Bohemund and landed in the region of Bulgaria, where they found a very great abundance of grain, wine, and bodily nourishment. Thence descending into the valley of Andronopoli, they waited for his forces, until all had likewise crossed the sea. Then the wise Bohemund ordered a council with his people, comforting and admonishing all (with these words): "Seignors, take heed all of you, for we are pilgrims of God. We ought, therefore, to be better and more humble than before. Do not plunder this land, since it belongs to Christians, and let no one, at the cost of blessing, take more than he needs to eat."

-Excerpt from the Gesta Francorum et aliorum Hierosolimitanorum

Stephen Joannes, Apprentice to the Stitcher

"Blah, blah, blah, there goes the old gas-bag again" thought Stephen as he ignored the Stitcher ranting about something or other. "Will he ever shut up? I swear, once I've finally learned enough from him, his old corpse will be my servant in my pleasure den..."

The Mad One, Håkon's Champion

Håkon is guarded by a crazed berserker who is fiercely loyal to him. No one knows what has earned such strong loyalty. But he never leaves Håkon's side except to slay those who get too close. 

The Estallian Peacock

So there I was standing before the largest giant in all of Estalia and I says to him, to him I says, "surrender now, or I'll chop ye' down to my size!" Now, of course, giants aren't the brightest knife in the drawer so he didnae surrender when 'e 'ad the chance. So I pulls out my trusty axe and went ta work...

Hrolf and Snorre Ulfson

Amongst his most fearsome troops were the brothers Ulfson. Some say their father was actually a wolf. If you asked them about their parentage, they would give a sly smile and tell you it was they were only half brothers, for Geri was Hrolf's father while Freki was Snorre's father! 

Hrolf was the larger of the brothers; resplendent with his blond locks and beard and weilding a giant hammer in battle. His brother Snorre had to be quicker since he could not rely on his brother's strength. Thus, he carried his sword Neck-Cleaver along with a stout shield for protection.

In battle, the two always fought together, often singing as they hacked through enemy soldiers.

-Excerpt from the Saga of Alfarinn the War-Maker

Iron Warriors Warp Talon

When a pack of Warp Talons emerges from the Warp, it appears to those on the battlefield below as if daemonic warriors have literally burst out from nothingness into fiery, vengeful life.

Grim Grimmson, Mad Squat Engineer

I don't know how long we'd been there, but one day I had this here idea during a mushroom break. Ya see, I realized that I didn't need to be short no more. So I began to search round the hulk for scrap parts. Once I'd worked me some new legs, I praised the Emperor for his divine inspiration. Then, on my next mushroom, I had another 'un...

Håkon Magnusson, Viking Warlord

And the Vikings came upon them likes wolves, devouring all before them. The heathens left no bed unturned looking for treasure and slaves to take back to their dark lands. They slaughtered any who stood in their way to slake their thirst for battle. At their head was a mighty lord with a giant dog at his side and the blasphemous raven banner aloft above him. 

I'm on Instagram!

Welcome to the 21st century, right? I finally signed up for instagram: AcceptableRadiation.

And regarding the lack of updates, I had taken a slew of photos but they all turned out terrible. I was going to retake them right away, but then I ordered some new lighting equipment so I decided to wait 😅

Anyway, the equipment has been received and used and photos have been taken so normal service shall be resumed shortly!

Foul Blightspawn and Co.

Another of Mortarion's foul spawn are bloated marines who roam the battlefield sparaying toxic miasma at friend and foe alike. Unfortunatly for the valiant forces of Him On Terra, these diseased fluids seem to embolden the unrepentant Death Guard while inflicting upon the righteous inumerable maladies that lead to nothing but a painful demise. These heretics are must be dealt with carefully; they carry upon their backs giant cauldrons of their filth and any attack on them has the potential to rupture the tank. I have witnessed such calamities create countless Imperial martryrs. 

-Excerpt from the Reports of Inquisitor Corrigan, 3 226 765.M38

Housecarls, to the King!

William, however, came against him unawares, ere his army was collected; but the king, nevertheless, very hardly encountered him with the men that would support him: and there was a great slaughter made on either side. There was slain King Harold, and Leofwin his brother, and Earl Girth his brother, with many good men: and the Frenchmen gained the field of battle, as God granted them for the sins of the nation.

-The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle

The huscarls, an Anglo-Saxon lord's best men. These were professional soldiers, but they also performed other roles for their lord as well. These are more Footsore Miniatures from the Late Saxon army I picked up at the NOVA open. These were painted much the same way as the fyrd, except with more armor. I also made sure to add decorations to their clothing to represent their increased status and, therefore, increased wealth. My freehand isn't great so this decoration is mainly in the form of embroidery lines around the cuffs and the shirt bottoms. I also used some of the more intricate shields designs from the Little Big Men Studios range for the same reasons. And, unlike their fyrd counterparts, the huscarls take proper care of their equipment, so their shields do not have the same weathering as the fyrd. Although if anyone has any tips for the transfers, I'm all ears as I can't quite match the colors or mask the edges as well as I would like!

Sons of Horus

"I was there the day that Horus slew the Emperor."

-Garviel Loken

Summon the Fyrd!

"Soon after this came in Earl Tosty from beyond sea into the Isle of Wight, with as large a fleet as he could get; and he was there supplied with money and provisions. Thence he proceeded, and committed outrages everywhere by the sea-coast where he could land, until he came to Sandwich. When it was told King Harold, who was in London, that his brother Tosty was come to Sandwich, he gathered so large a force, naval and military, as no king before collected in this land; for it was credibly reported that Earl William from Normandy, King Edward's cousin, would come hither and gain this land; just as it afterwards happened."

-The Anglo Saxon Chronicle

Deadcember (was last month)

There we was, defendin' Frugelhofen and we about had them dry bones beat back. But then that devil Kemmler started castin' spells and these catapults appeared on the hill outside of town. But they weren't ordinary stones they were launchin', but skulls! And the skulls seemed to be screaming as they came right towards us. I ain't never been so scared in all my life!

-Matthias, Frugelhofen defender

Beware the Bogs of Ottersricht!

BAAAAAA!!!!!

-Heard from the bogs at night

"Here we go boys, another mutant paid his tax!" exclaimed Konrad as he tossed another mutant head onto the skiff. They had been hunting through the bog all day and their tally was seven mutants' taxed. The Monocrat would be pleased. There seemed to be an upswing in attacks of late. But the Tallymen would continue to trudge shin deep in muck to collect the tax and to keep the citizens of Ottersricht safe.

2017 Year End Review

Ah, 'tis the season of year-end review blog posts! Much like last year, I am going to continue to focus on what I did not finish, versus what I did finish. After all, if you want to see what I painted, it's all (mostly) up on the blog.

First things, first, I did finish a few of the projects from last years list: the Lord of Worms, the dark future car, and the Magewraith Throne.

Unfortunately, there are still a few projects that I didn't touch during the entire year! You may recognize these two as being in exactly the same state as last year: