Thursday, February 27, 2014

Action Pose

In an attempt to make my Guardians feel like they're racing over terrain I did quite a bit of work to this squad add-on.

I was surprised by how difficult I found it to be getting the model to balance and be sturdy despite how little weigh there is to it. That said, it's a stark contrast to what could be done wih the old metal models.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Battle Report!

It's been a while since I've had a chance to film one of my games, but I finally got around to it.  I'm trying out some new things, like editing-in some extreme close-ups for better views of some of the models and getting some stills from moments during the game.  If you think there should be more of those in future reports just let me know in the comments.

I can say, the more I use phoenix lords, pretty much solely attaching them to a unit of their thematic aspect, I am finding that they add quite a bit to the unit if you intend to use them aggressively, so much that it's hard to want to use them in other unit size than with a minimum squad of their aspect.  For instance, it is quite a sight throwing Karandras into a full size unit of Striking Scorpions, but most of the time the function of the unit is really a determination of how well the Phoenix Lord performs, as they often clear out a target without any assistance, which ultimately means half the unit is overkill, and those points could probably be better spent elsewhere.

Friday, February 21, 2014

The Old Ways

As I'm working to improve my overall force I've been looking at doing some work on my Guardians.  Ulthwe is known for the fierceness of their black guardians.  I use them in nearly every game and I painted them just over a decade ago.  Most notably the models, redone shortly after the 3rd edition codex was released, are still nice but are very static.  For such a mobile force and with the Dark Eldar units providing additional inspiration, I think the squad can be tweaked to look more active.

I've just been hired to start a new job, and in celebration I picked up a box of Guardians.  I'm going to expand a unit to full size so that I can try out the dual heavy weapon platform option, and before messing around with any of the painted models I'll work on these new Guardians, all of whom will be in some converted pose, and then I can work on one model at a time and throw in conversions where I feel necessary while the unit is at least maintaining Tabletop Quality.

The base is a simple bit of work to continue my plan of having some wraith stone on every base, and provides a slight angle for the model.  I wanted the grenade throw pose to act as a visual reminder to me that the unit has Plasma Grenades and whenever appropriate I should be using them.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Eldar Bastion

With Games Workshop focusing solely on Imperial Terrain it falls to independent modelers to create Xenos terrain, or to convert it up ourselves... or both at the same time.  Recently I completed work on a Bastion themed for Eldar.

Quite a while ago I had been frustrated by always battling on Imperial worlds and I had sought to adapt my board to an Eldar Maiden World.  I had completed that task, but then I moved across the world leaving my board and terrain behind.  Now comes the slow board building process again, so that once again I can protect a maiden world, and avoid always gaming on a bleak Imperial Colony.  Maybe this time I can convince myself to go all out with some of the ideas I've been fostering for a while.

Using a kit from Miniature Scenery I was able add on some left over bits and conversion parts to make something that was both fitting for the rules and suitable as a comparative model.

While the top section can only hold about 7 or 8 models a large squad can spread along the outer steps, though this would make it easier for opponents to assault the unit.

That's a Wraithknight for size comparison purposes, though that model is tall enough to play King Kong and just reach out to pull models off the top.

The entrance is made from a spare hatch to a Falcon.  The troop compartment is made from an old bottle that I cut up and is actually larger than the rear of a Wave Serpent, so, like the serpent it has a 12 model capacity, compared to the standard 10 for bastions, but doesn't have any Fire Points.  It seemed like a fair exchange.

Rather than Heavy Bolters to all four sides, it has thematically appropriate Starcannons, 2 facing the front and 2 the rear.

Hope that inspires people to work out their own take on Xenos Terrain.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Jain Zar

Of all the Phoenix Lord models, the one that I feel aged the harshest was Jain Zar.  Before I had a large army sell off, about a decade ago now, to help pay for some medical bills, I had all the Phoenix Lords.  As I keep working at tweaking my army since the new dex, I'm very interested in once again interested in fielding Jain Zar.

Even before the new dex dropped she was meaner in 6th.  2+ armor saves over-all are more resilient and her shooting attack was quite nasty.  Unfortunately she wasn't quite meeting her point cost because her weapons were AP3.  I played against her a number of times and even when hitting first, a 2+ save pretty much ruined her day.  Also, my favoritism towards Karandras meant she was, in general, getting stomped out in a single challenge because he could shrug off her attacks and then pummel her to death.

The new book fixed that, her points aren't prohibitive and she's laying out 6 AP2 attacks on the charge.  True she's only at Str 4, but she's got Shred thrown in.  In addition Acrobatic and her warlord trait mean the banshees are adding 4" to their run.  It may not seem like much, but paired with fleet it means they're generally moving faster across the table than Harlequins or Scorpions.  Now if you factor in Bladestorm from the Banshees pistols it's a unit that can use the first turn to get in to position for an early charge, or at the least force your opponent to deal with them, and when bolstered by Jain Zar's Fearlessness and 2+ save they're much more resilient.

With the rules sorted out that means the only real issue I had with her was her model.  I had some ideas for how I would like to update her, but she's a giant block of metal and I don't fancy having to saw into her mane a number of times and she wasn't a model re-released in Finecast.  Having had experience with the original lead model I know how top-heavy the original is and how many problems that led to on the tabletop, not to mention the need to pin her hands on since they have a tendency to come off.

I embarked on a page turning adventure to see if I could find a model that inspired me, but nothing really caught on for me.  Then as I thumbed through the Dark Eldar codex I saw the image of Lilith and recalled that she had an alternate weapon option for an Impaler.  I thought the pose was fluid and threatening enough that it would be a perfect basis to start.

My first step was to shave down all the spikes.  Then I worked to convert her face into a mask, primarily by using GS to add the amplifier to the mouth and cables on the sides.  For a while I considered leaving the top of the mask off and just leaving her with a top knot, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it would do a disservice to the original model.  The reason the hair is so tall is because it looks like the hair is extending from the face as if it's a separate head, the banshee's head.  I then added in a strap across the chest like the old model had, and what inspired the look of the 3rd ed Banshees.

Happily enough I noticed Lilith's model had some nods to Jain Zar's model, including the left arm having quite the gladiator appearance, so it didn't need much work, except some additional plating added in on the upper arm, right arm, and thighs.  I also used some Green Stuff to blend the long boots to look like a bodysuit and make the bare belly and back armor.

With the work done and the GS set I finally got to paint the model.  I went for a very traditional armor scheme, but not straight bone color, instead basing with Khaki and highlighting with bone.  The humidity has been high so I haven't had a chance to dullcote her, but otherwise I'm mostly happy with her, though I will probably try my hand at adding on a banshee rune.  

I think this final picture really shows the intended effect of the topknot flowing from the Banshee's head, and still gives the model the swept-back curve that is so common with Eldar models, most especially noticeable on the Farseer's Ghost Helm.

Monday, February 10, 2014

Short Story: Shadow of Veilynndorr Part III (Conclusion)

Kester Bligh waited patiently as the grav-lift slowly carried him up to the Governor Level. His father, Deter Bligh, ruled Verdana IV almost entirely from his luxurious apartments at the top of Sladenkamp Hive. Despite their wealth and power the access grav-lift was little better quality than junk, often stopping for prolonged periods or becoming shrouded in darkness as the overhead light stopped flickering and simply fizzled out. The cramped space was made even more uncomfortable by the size of his two Ogryn bodyguards. While ab-humans were despisable abominations they still had their uses.

He was not certain why his father had requested his presence, but it was most likely something mundane and beneath him, but it was his duty to comply as the heir to the office. The light blinked again in rapid succession. When I am Governor I'll see that gets fixed. In fact I'll see this whole place renovated befitting my status.

The grav-lift went dark. He heard two loud thuds, one on either side of him, and when the light came on he saw a man in loose fitting robes wearing a helmet carved from bone and adorned with a number of feintly glowing stones and marked with intricate patterns. He noticed the man placed a hand on the hilt of a sword at his side, but he did not draw the weapon.

Kester noticed his bodyguards were both lying on the ground unconscious and as he went to reach for his bolt pistol (one of three his father purchased and had cost a small fortune) he found he was unable to move.

A voice came from the helmet, but it spoke in high gothic and he didn't understand. Then, in low gothic it said, “Greetings, Kester Bligh, Do you know who I am?”

A dead man,” he responded, “when my father hears of this.”

It is your father we need to discuss. I am Farseer Liridainn of Ulthwé.”

Farseer?” Kester said. “You're one of those Eldar!” Rage boiled up within him. His father had been implored by some Inquisitor to foster a partnership with the foul xenos. At first it seemed to be a great succor to their Planetary Defense Force, providing aid to the Imperial regiments stretched thin trying to suppress a rebellion. But recently, as the rebels have grown more fierce the Eldar forces disappeared, leaving the Defense Forces to be overwhelmed in many areas. “What do you want of me?”

I am here because the fate of countless lives rests upon you.”

I am familiar with the lies of your kind, like the lies you told my father. What lies would you tell me.”

You misunderstand,” the Eldar said. “I wish only to show you the truth.” The alien reached his hand out and touched Kester on the forehead. He was blinded by a blast of light that seemed to knock him off his feet, but then he felt the sensation of floating. As the weight of gravity came back to him and his vision cleared he saw that he was no longer in the grav-lift, but was standing in a long building stretching a great distance in either direction. Along the walls were stalls, each one held a vehicle that looked like a mixture of a tank and an aeroplane, only more sleek, as if a cresting wave had been captured and converted for battle. Most of the vehicles appeared long dormant, covered with crystalline webbing that shimmered like gossamer.

My kin have been fighting wars on a scale you cannot imagine since before your species had learned to speak. We tamed stars and mastered light. Here we house the relics of an age gone by, our war engines silent not because they lack ferocity or safety, but because we lack the pilots to operate them.”

Kester felt excited at the thought of all the power those vehicles could confer. He hid a smug smile as he figured out what the alien was doing. He was proposing a partnership. They would provide the hardware and he would provide the operators. Bodies were Verdana IV's greatest natural resource.

We cannot fight a war for you,” the Farseer said. “The loss of every Eldar life is a grievous wound that cannot be healed. Yet, you, have the power to tie the fates of both of our people together.”

The alien garage disappeared in a flash of darkness and when light returned it was dim and smokey. Ten Eldar, all dressed similarly to Liridainn, but with subtle differences in the details of their outfits, sat around a large circular table festooned with layers of patterns and designs. At the side of the room was a monstrous construct that must have stood seven meters tall. Its featureless face was disconcerting and made Kester uncomfortable.

They cannot see or hear us,” Liridainn said. Just as the xenos had spoken Kester started to move, and the head of the construct turned as if to watch him. “Except Wraithseer Colano-ava,” he added. “Spirit walkers do not see the world as the rest of us do.”

Why have you brought me here?” Kester said.

As I told you, I brought you here for the truth. Your father is a disciple of the dark gods. Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways, has ensnared your father with false promises. The rebels that your militia fight are worshipers just like him. He is tearing apart your world from the inside.”

The Eldar around the table started to chant in unison. As the sound of their voices grew small runes that appeared to be carved of stone or bone rose into the air and swirled around the room.

He has been tempted with false promises of power and knowledge, but the only true guarantee the dark gods can give is death. If you do not act, death comes to Sladenkamp.”

As the runes danced and spun faster, circling one another a blue glow started to emanate from the air above the table until images started to appear. Kester saw his planet at war, giant, winged bird-monsters descending from a gaping tear in the sky. On the other side of that tear was a realm of madness. Pink creatures appeared from nothing and split into smaller blue daemons. Other creatures had mouths for hands and breathed fire, and anything that fire touched was converted to something from a madman's nightmare. Images flashed showing the continents shift and distort as massive hive spires collapsed in on themselves or erupted like volcanoes spewing the warp effluvia high into the atmosphere. He saw the cluster of warp storms expand and swallow the entire solar system planet by planet.

Darkness descended again and Kester once again stood in the elevator with the Farseer. “Those storms aren't natural, are they?”

No. Your father has been a servant of Chaos since before you were born. Slowly he has orchestrated this plot. He has suffered one loss, hoping to learn how to increase his Master's influence and gain the knowledge to overcome the endless swarm, but that does not matter. That defeat is of no consequence. While he lives the ultimate victory of the dark gods is as unavoidable as the is the loss of this world.”

The loss of my inheritance,” Kester said. “He would leave me nothing.”

The choice is yours,” the Farseer said. “The fate of my Craftworld and your world are both in your hands.”

The light in the ceiling blinked out and when it returned the alien was gone. Oddly, the light no longer flickered, it was as strong and steady as Kester was resolute.

The doors to the grav-lift opened and Kester stepped into his father's apartments. He found his father standing over a long table festooned with maps and speaking, seemingly to himself.

Ah, son, I'm so happy you could join me.”

Without hesitation Kester drew his Bolt Pistol. Deter had two of his own, one on each side of his hips, but his confusion caused him to hesitate. As the explosive round tore through his father, detonating with a boom that reverberated throughout the apartments Kester smiled. He had secured his inheritance and saved his people in one deft move. He had made Verdana IV a force to be reckoned, a regional powerhouse that could, in time, expand its power and sphere of influence with the technological might of his new allies. His smile widened.


            Liridainn watched from the safety of a Pegasus Transport ship as the last vestiges of the Warp Storm cluster dissipated. Without the storms acting as a blockade the splinter hive fleet slowly pressed throughout the void of space, tendrils stretching down towards the surface of Verdana IV.

            “You look pensive,” Gaeolina said from behind him as she placed her hands gently on his shoulders.

            “This is the face of total victory,” he said.

            “Total Victory?”

            “Yes. With the passing of the planet's governor Chaos has lost the heart of its power. Even better, the Imperium of Man will not sit idly while this system is invaded. They will respond in force, dragging the Hive Fleet into a war that will stretch on for centuries, preventing it from expanding on a path that once again threatens our kin. When truth prevails and Eldar lives are preserved, I consider that a complete and total victory.”

            “Truth?” she asked.

            “The manner in which they perished determined our own fate. The truth has always been that this planet was doomed.”

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Short Story: Shadow of Veilynndorr Part II

Muzzle flare after images danced on Farseer Liridainn’s vision like burst capillaries that splay color across frozen cheeks. In the serene moments between the bouts of cacophonous gunfire the ruins outside of Sladenkamp seemed to breath, inhaling uneasily before once again being rocked by the repetitious thunder strikes of heavy bolter fire from an entrenched Imperial Guard squad.

Liridainn crouched against a wall, his Witchblade humming gently in his hand. His black robes helped him stay hidden in the deep shadows stretching from the fragments of shattered buildings as he crept along. The humans were not what he was actually hunting. They were the bait. Its presence screamed to his mind like a psychic beacon. Esurient thoughts rippled from it like a stone thrown into a pool, but its natural camouflage was so complete that his vision was useless until it made its move. The beast would show itself as it lunged for the kill. It savored the endorphins produced through fear as a delicacy. The Farseer flicked his head to the side and gave a quick nod to the handful of Black Guardians he had brought with him as an escort, and at his signal they knew to keep their heads down. They were as invisible in the darkness as he, and equally patient. Once more Liridainn's thoughts slipped to the Spiritseer Gaeolina. He thought about how skilled she was coalescing shadows and darkness like a protective wall, though in all honesty her abilities were not the only reason he wished she was at his side. The Eldar relationship to the Path was often complex and every journey unique, but nothing had prepared him for the tumultuous connection that was love, and how it was contorted and strained by the needs of the Craftworld and the demands of the Path.

He pushed away those thoughts and quickly skimmed the skein for immediate threats. He held in place watching the guardsmen fire blindly. The temporary alliance between Ulthwé and the Imperial Guard was tenuous, but necessary. There were powerful psychic dampers that protected the large Imperial Apothecarum that loomed across the street carried the psychic signature of an Eldar mind protecting the location from the probing Rune Council of Ulthwé. Liridainn had to know what the humans and his kin endeavored to discover in secret.

Liridainn’s prey took the bait. Colors swirled and glinted odd reflections as the Lictor pounced upon the embedded Guardsmen. Its speed was impressive, and in barely a breath half of the humans had been disemboweled or gored to death. With barely a twitch Liridainn signaled his men. They broke cover and fired, their Shuriken Catapults spraying hundreds of the lethal discs into the area; flesh and bone tore apart covering the rubble with a layer of sinew and gore. The presence of a lictor wasn't a complete surprise. There was a tendril of a hive fleet blocked by a nearby series of warp storms, but an occasional spore pod would find its way to the surface of a nearby planet. Yet this planet already presented a threat to the Craftworld and another danger was a dark omen. Perhaps, if he could find the answers he could see how these events might affect the future. If Ulthwé believed that war would be unavoidable he might be able to lobby Iyanden for aid.

The path was now clear and they hurried into the front of the Apothecarum. In the distance he could here the near constant bellows of the Imperial cannons thrumming in the air as they attempted to push back a growing rebellion.

Liridainn and his Black Guardians entered the front of the building and hurried along its halls. Occasionally there was a flat ceiling light that would buzz whenever it blinked on in the ceiling, casting a greenish sallow glow along the otherwise dark corridors. Liridainn tested the psychic dampening and used his powers to provide fortune and guide fate on his Guardians. The psychic blocking the building had undergone only seemed to protect against powers of communication and probing, another curious clue. They descended through the confines of the complex attempting to create as little disturbance as possible.

As they moved further down they began to find scattered limbs and bloodstains, that became more frequent the further they went. Finally they reached a large room, big enough to house fifty Falcon Grav Tanks. The Walls were decorated with dissected parts from various Tyranids, with scanners and screens dotting the landscape. In the back of the large room was a giant Hive Tyrant, or as some humans referred to it a “Swarm Lord,” sitting dormant, the scales and flesh normally crowning its head were removed and instead a pile of electrodes and cables poured out of its brain, connected to one massive terminal. Bodies in long white coats lay scattered about its feet, and a Farseer carrying the marks of the Ealfynn Craftworld rested impaled upon one of its four huge Bone Sabres.

Liridainn could feel the curiosity of his squad pressing upon him like a great weight. “The dampening wasn't to keep us out, it was to keep the thoughts of this beast in,” he said hurriedly. “They were trying to unlock the secret of the Hive Synapse,” he said. The Swarm Lord's eyes opened. It stood, slowly, letting out a terrifying roar when it became fully erect. In one swing two Guardians had been broken, their entrails decorating the floor of the laboratory.

Liridainn was taken aback, and stumbled over a severed limb, falling onto his posterior, narrowly missing two swords swinging in from the other direction that swiped over his head. A hail of Shuriken fire poured at the Tyrant and seemed to bounce off uselessly. It hissed, its teeth bared in a constant sneer of hatred.

The Lord lashed out again and three more guardians fell. Time was running out and Liridainn did the last thing he could think of. He Reached out in a mental attack, an arc of purple light momentarily dancing connected their wills in battle, and as they pushed back and forth against one another until finally it squealed as he turned off the beast's mind in a most painful fashion. It slumped to the ground supported only by the cables, which had restricted it from leaving the room.

The Farseer stood and dusted off his robe. He only had a handful of Eldar left after the attack. “Collect the Soul Stones of the fallen. We will return to the Rune Council and tell them of the indiscretion of the Ealfynn. I feel the full effects of this tampering will remain unseen for some time to come, but we have more pressing matters at hand. The skein is clear. We will lose this war.”

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Short Story: Shadow of Veilynndorr Part I

        Farseer Liridainn stared longingly at the vast expanse that was the infinity circuit of Ulthwé. It was teeming with tiny crystalline spiders, ever vigilant, protecting the psychic core from alien emanations. He exhaled a stagnant breath and returned to his duty.

          He pulled a large stone from underneath his robe watching its inner light flicker and dance as if alive. After running his hand along its smooth surface he held out the flawless stone and pressed it against one of the long branches of Wraithbone reaching out to the top of the Dome of Seers.

As the he began his dirge a low vibration could be felt through the intertwined construct. His mind drifted to thoughts of Gaeolina, the Spiritseer that had recovered the stone. She had led a small host of wraith constructs to return the spirits of the lost to the Craftworld. She was young, with vibrant blue eyes that made people underestimate her. His mind returned to the task at hand. The mourning song reached its apex and the crystalline bone spread over the stone leaving only a small portion exposed, housing it forever within.

         The song ended and a swarm of tiny gem-like spiders phased onto the stone spraying their dense webbing across its surface. When they finished their webbing made a thin skein that only left minor visible traces like glowing threads when light shifted around it.

          Another Eldar spirit had been entered into the infinity matrix denying She Who Thirsts one precious soul. His younger brother, Farseer Veilynndorr, who had once wept in his sanctum at the shallow talent of his precognition, had died on the outskirts of the human hive city Sladenkamp.

Liridainn removed the protective filter that was his Ghosthelm and surrendered to the undulating sea of psyches so that he could once again hear his brother's voice.


          Veil removed the remaining shards of his Ghosthelm and let them drop like discarded rubbish from his long, elegant fingers. The wind howled as it swept over the mech dunes, bringing with it the slick scent of industrial lubricants.

          Unlike the other members of the Rune Council Veil had no gift for prediction; however he was powerfully in tune with the present, seeing in perfect clarity events at which his fellow seers could only guess.

          That was how he knew the truth that had been hidden from the Eldar of Craftworld Ealfynn. He knew the dark deception of the armored Mon-Keigh psyker and his secret affiliation.  He was assigned to outskirts of Sladenkamp under the order of the Imperial Inquisition, but intended to fulfill his own sinister ends. The wicked mage had found out the Seers of Ealfynn and the primitive Mon-Keigh sanctioned seers (always under the careful watch of a commissar) were working together to find secret knowledge. This so-called Librarian had intended to twist this situation to serve the Lord of Change. The Ealfynn themselves were, in part, to blame, as they had worked with the Imperium to block this venture from the seers of Ulthwé.

          Veil managed to get a warning to the rest of the Rune Council of Ulthwé about the presence of the traitor before the heavily armored division of Space Marines arrived. Yet, Veil was blind to the future and worried that inaction now would cause a greater threat to the Craftworld in the future. He decided to send back the strike force of rangers and guardians to stay behind and deal with the foul blot of mental power, forever banishing the heinous psyker to the Warp. He kept only a single Guardian squad and one Warlock disciple as a retinue.

He untied the knot holding his hair, letting it flow freely. The Force Rod the Librarian wielded had shattered his Ghosthelm and effectively severed his connection to the Warp as without the protection of his helm he would quickly suffer the predations of She Who Thirsts. Daemons would be drawn to him like a moth to a flame. For the first time in a millennium he was purely dependent upon his physical senses. It was at this point, alone, his retinue slain and his defenses shattered, when he was at his most vulnerable, that his enemy struck.

Veil spun and lashed out with his Witchblade tearing through the thick armor of his enemy. The Librarian reeled back, allowing a better view of the gash as it healed itself, proof he conspired with the dark gods. They fought fiercely, their weapons clashed repeatedly, flowing over the sound of the Mon-Keigh’s insidious laughter.
In the rubble of the war torn city Veil stepped wrong and sloppily fell forward, leaving himself vulnerable to attack. A surge of light leapt from the fingers of the Marine and struck at Veil rendering him blind. In a moment of panic he tumbled backward before another bolt, one of the blessings of Tzeentch, pierced the protective wards of his Rune armor and lifted him off the ground. His body thrashed, wracked with unspeakable pain, but in his head he heard the voice of his destroyer.
You are too late, witch. This world had been claimed by the Lord of Change long ago. Already I have spread the mark of my lord through this blasted city. They will no longer worship that Corpse God; they will only worship me! The name Guiomme will be sung in the Annuls of Terra when Abaddon breaks that wretched throne and the minions of my Lord ravage the forbidden tomes of arcana and I stand at the helm of his victory.”
The lightning increased in intensity and his thoughts scattered like flower petals drifting on the wind. He could no longer remember what it was that had brought him to the planet, or the discovery he had made. All that was left were the emotions of his evaporated memories. Veil chose to let go of the last strands of spirit holding him to this body in order to make one final blow against his enemy. He opened a rift between the very fabric of the warp and reality like a churning maelstrom of doom with thick purple tentacles of non-reality that lashed out and wrapped around Guiomme, dragging his entire being physically into the Warp.
The traitor Librarian used his considerable will to fight his way back to reality. “This is not the end of me! I will return to do my master’s bidding! I will return and conquer the whole of this world! I have not yet begun to-” the snap of the rift implosion cut off the last of his words, but it was clear he had failed in his attempt to once and for all destroy the Librarian Guiomme by banishing him to the miseries of the warp. He had secured his kin some time to amass a force to fight the burgeoning infection of chaos and took some solace at that as his spirit slipped gently into the warm embrace of his Spirit Stone.

          Liridainn jumped into awareness. He pulled a brace of runes from the pouch at his side and cast them into the air. As they danced and twirled around him he focused upon the skein of fate trode the myriad paths of the future. He watched without emotion as the companies of Imperial Guard fell to slaughter under the banner of Guiomme. Once sladenkamp fell the entire planet marched for the Lord of Change. Over and over he watched the cogs of the future slowly turn, and each variation saw the triumph of Guiomme and the nearby cluster of warp storms evolving to a second Eye of Terror that would lead to the destruction of Ealfynn and Iyanden Craftworlds, and ultimately would see Guiomme lead an assault on Ulthwé itself. There had to be a path to victory, a way to save his people. He could find no answer, until the moment he found nothing. Nothing was the only way he could describe the sensation of this path. It was as if something actively blocked his ability to look forward. The mystery had suddenly ignited a spark of hope. He would go to Sladenkamp and find out what Veilynndorr had known. Without warning his feeling of hope shifted to hate.

          His rage had surpassed logic. He felt the pure unadulterated pool of anger that slept within the heart of every Eldar burst like a dam.

          He could sense the groan of excitement and trepidation that emanated from the Infinity Circuit as it stood captive in his agitated presence.  Little by little he could sense the pulsing heartbeat that raced throughout its branches like capillaries.  It was getting progressively stronger, until he finally recognized it as the life pulse of the Avatar of Khaine.

          He would no longer walk the skein or consult the Rune Council on the next course of action. His heart cried out for vengeance while mourning for his loss. He would don his Witchblade, seek aid within the Shrines of the Aspects, and marshal the guardians under his command. 

The Avatar had awoken, the ceremonies of blood were being performed, and Craftworld Ulthwé was going to war.

Monday, February 3, 2014

An In-Game Picture

A friend was playing a game and snapped an in-game shot using many of the sprites I designed.  It's nice to see it all in action:

While it's all a bit chaotic, I think it does a great job of illustrating the potential of Vassal, allowing for anyone to partake in massive games that would otherwise be logistically impossible between time needed to play and location.

Now I just need to find the time and motivation to work on some other projects.