Prologue
Gudrun the Young sat in his cabin, a map of the Karkino Sea and copies of the notes by his fellow captains spread on his desk. He thought with pride at how Sigurd Prow Dancer, Captain Kælador Heirn Dustral, Madiha al Sayaada and him had worked on Bloddy Bennet's Riddle. Surely some of the best salty dogs he'd ever met sailed under the Umbral Dominion's flag. But then, if he'd ever met a captain that would attract sharp and wicked fellows, that was definitely Illyana Draketooth.
His mind trailed off to the decision to join her during her daring attack on Iscarion. It'd been his first as captain, after inheriting the Grudgebreaker's command from his father, Gudrun the Elder. The old longbeard's pledge to defend the Seeds of Hope during the Season of War had brought them no renown nor riches. Now, thirty years or so after first sailing the Ur-River, the Grudgebreakers coffers were full... and sod 'em both his father's idealism and the bounties on their heads in every Realm!
Three long whistles from a steam bell and a deepening in the rumble of the Grudgebreaker's engine shook Gudrun from his memories. It was the signal they had sighted their destination, Blacktar Refuge. His Grudgebreaker's were to secure a beachhead there. Then, Sigurd could bind those spirits that proved too hostile. Once that would be accomplished, the Umbral Dominion would have had a perfect base of operations.
He grabbed his cutlass, pistol and spyglass and strode out onto the main deck.
"All right, lads!" he shouted "Gunnery crews, load your weapons and stay at the ready. I'll lead the landing parties!"

Gudrun surveyed the area through his spyglass. As expected, there was a welcome committee. One of the captains from Skull Sands, by the look of it. Skeletons shambled around an imperious looking Wight and two deadwalker ogors.


The Wight advanced with his escort, securing one of the clear paths across the sharp rocks dotting the shore line.

Gudrun led his boarding party to secure the other safe passage, the duardin peppering the skeletons with bullets and quarrels.

At the same time, Gunnery Sergeant Orun was directing the Grudgebreakers' covering fire to slow down the advancing Deathrattles, giving time to Bosun Mudrin's crew to hunker down behind a line of rocks seconds before one of the massive, rotting ogors was on them.


With a deep moan, the restless gheists of the Blacktar Refuge rose, attacking duardin and Deathrattle alike. Rusty weapons and well oiled cutlasses clashed and pistols barked. On both sides of the line of rocks, bodies slumped into the greasy waters.

As his crew held back the second ogor, Gudrun spotted the Wight captain leaving the safe passage he had secured and wading into the massed combat. Without a moment of hesitation, he fired the flare he had brought with him.

As the Grudgebreakers heard the distinctive whistle of the flare, they throw themselves down and away from the line of rocks they were defending. All, simultaneously, but Orun and Korin who instead dashed forward, phantasmal hands leaving deep wounds in their ankles but unable to stop them.

The very moment the two duardins reached the opening in the rocks, the Grudgebreaker's light cannons opened up, blasting away the rocks and the skeletons climbing over them. As the smoke and dust cleared, the Wight captain stood alone, a dozen or so pistols and crossbows leveled at him. Witchfire burning angrily in his eyes, he withdrew.
Gudrun paced along the shore, the chanting of Sigurd meshing with the murmur of the lapping waves.
If his father could see him now, brushing shoulders with a Darkoath dabbling in necromancy...
He couldn't follow the thought to the end as Bosun Mudrin approached, an iron chalice in his hands.
"Captain", he called. "Think I've found one of 'em Darkglimmer Chalices. Gave some grog out of it to the wounded and they were shipshape and ready to fight in no time!"
A greedy smile parted Gudrun's black beard.
"Excellent, me mate! Think what expects us once we find and crack the crab..."
***
That was a quick, but extremely bloddy, solo Warcry game. I had decided to set in on Blacktar Refuge because I imagined the water there would be greasy and dark, perfectly matching my Aqshyan water pools. I then searched through all the Twist cards I have from both the first and second edition and found 'Insidious Malignants' was absolutely perfect. Since it was from the first edition deck, I drew the rest of the cards from it. Here they are:
Zodgrod Worthsnagga
With his Grabzappa crackling, Zodgrod herds his notorious super runts into battle. This irascible loon is never happier than when wrangling especially large and rowdy foes, usually by peppering them with needles from his Squigstoppa Numba 5, then burying them in a rampaging horde of diminutive little monsters.
After nearly two years of no hobbying, as I had no place where to assemble and paint models, I finally got a nice permanent hobby station in my new flat! I've already started painting the Stormvault terrain I got at Warhammer Fest 2023, but I'm only in the early stages, so nothing to post about yet. However, rather than leaving this blog to languish for longer, I've dug out my terrains and photo backdrops so that I can post the last few models I did in Manchester before leaving.
Zodgrod was one of them, a present from my then girlfriend, which I assembled straight out of the box, planning to add him to the the Skrapjunkiez for 40k rather than Kill Team games. The idea is they've hired the most notorious Runt Herder of the galaxy to help them keep the rowdy grotz of Badlanding in check.
Paint-wise, his iconic blue hair-squig matches the lucky paint on the Skrapjunkiez and I then only had to replicate their drab grey and leather on the fatigues and bags, and their red spot colour on his beast pelt.
For now, I'm not expecting him to see much gaming action as I still have to find gaming buddies to play 40k with... although I should first read the rules for 10th edition...
Kalyustar's Revenge
Kalyustar paced restlessly in his mausoleum chambers.
Ever since the night of the Sorowmœn, the Rotmoons had vanished, surely flown away on their patched up skyship. That the wood of the Twisted Oak had been wasted in such a way filled the Soulchemist with barely restrained rage.
'But it is just indignation at those orruks' meddling with your efforts that fuels your rage?'
The voice of the Shadeglass Skull came, as always slightly mocking and yet soothing.
"No, old friend. Something else has changed".
'Has it? And what is it?'
"I'm not sure... It is not just the energies of Shyish blewing weaker across the cosmos. Something has taken their place, something far more alive and feral."
'Ah, yes, Soulchemist! Look at those minions of yours that were closer to Ghur in life...'
"The Orruk, the Ogors, even the Gor and the Skaven... they could not stay still. They twitch and jerk, they beat their weapons and shield rhythmically...'
'And don't you hear that same pounding in the aether?'
"I do... and it is that that fuels my rage further".
'And is that not something you should look into?'
"Maybe... but where to start?"
'In Ghur. There is a place they call the Gnarlwood, hiding a great source of power. Could it be that perturbing the aether?'
"That's worth finding out, old friend. We leave the Harrowmark. We move at once for the Haunted Gate".
'Good Soulchemist, good! But remember, even in Ghur, you still serve the Master...'
***

As Kalyustar stepped through the shimmering light of the Haunted Gate a vista of half constructed structures welcomed him. He had heard of the Dawnbringer Crusades, and that seemed one of their outposts. The Orruk, which he had taken with him, immediately jerked forward, as if called by something. That was a clear enough sign that they were in Ghur.


In the distance, he heard a commotion. Human and duardin voices raised high in a quarrel over shares, obbligations and profits. He spotted them, a company of Freeguilders and a crew of Kharadron Overlords, splitting off and lining up on opposite sides of the outpost. They were clearly gearing up to solve their issues with weapons. The Soulchemist was considering to leave them to the futile businesses of the living, but then another sound called his attention.

It was an all too familiar shanty, sung in a tuneless and guttural voice. And though the orruks were far bigger than the Rotmoons and their crew markings unknown to him, Kalyustar knew they belonged to the Ironfang Fleet.

Their captain sprung forward, his Brutes shortly behind, clearly eager to gave a a good thumping to the Freeguilders.

The Freeguilder leader spurred his Demi-gryph, steering it towards the orruks, but his charge was intercepted by a flying Kharadron.

Unhindered, the orruk captain barrelled through a cloud of musket smoke, shouting loud and brash encouragements to his crew. Soon, they were smashing Freeguilders left and right.

Kalyustar saw an opportunity to have some revenge on the orruk pirates, even if that meant giving up his position. In quick succession, he hurled two necrotic bolts against the Kharadron's endrin-rig, sending the duardin spinning to the ground. As he shouted for the Freeguilder to deal with the orruks, a thunderous salvo erupted from the Kharadron lines and engulfed his skeletons.

The Demi-gryph pounded towards the orruk captain and his rider's spear slammed onto the brute's broad chest.

Kalyustar needed more time to see his plan coming to fruition, but the Kharadron were still pouring aether-shots towards him. So he sent Grond forward to soak up the incoming fire.

Finally, the orruk captain fell under the Demi-gryph's claws and beak. His crew immediately lost their will to fight and withdrew.

Kalyustar laughed manically, while the Kharadron kept firing on him. The Soulchemist ducked for cover, summoning his minions to his side and leaving humans and duardins to fight over the Dawnbringer outpost.
He had had what he wanted, and revenge never had tasted so sweet to him.
Return to Rainy Manchester
As I had said a couple of months ago, even though I had left Manchester, the plan to meet with Saul and Lee at Warhammer Fest had been in the making for far longer.
So, on a typically grey Mancunian morning on Saturday 29th April, we crossed each other as the queue to the event snaked back on itself. And then, we had a great three days of modelling, gaming and general geekyness.
Saul's already published about the event and now it's my turn to give a summary. Over the next few days I'll post narrative battle reports of the games we had.
Day 1: Hobby Challenge & Multiplayer Warcry
I had bought the ticket for the Hobby Challenge, so as soon as I was inside (about 8.30ish) I rushed for it and, once I had collected my Event Exclusive Darkoath Chieftain, I was among the first browsing the mountain of sprues available on the day.
I gasped when I saw tons of sprues from the Stormvault kit and grabbed as many as I could, instantly forgetting about the Darkoath Chieftain.
I started assembling madly, taking full advantage of the modularity of that kit. I was so enraptured that after about 4 hours, I had built enough to fill a Warcry board.
Since I was travelling only with a small backpack, I called it on the terrain building, confident that all the various pieces could have been easily stacked inside each other. so, I texted Saul and Lee to have a Warcry game.
Saul was basically already onto it, having hooked up with a friend from Discord and having arranged for a table and we all played There Can Be Only One, giving me a chance to play as Kalyustar and his Cursed Company once more.
Once the game was done, I went back to the Hobby Challenge area to polish some of the rough joints and mould lines on the models I had built. It was then I realised there were plenty of the Easy-to-Build Sequitors sprues and even of the Knight-Incantor from the Mortal Realms magazine, so I helped myself to some and a few extra bits to convert them and added all to the loot of the day.
Day 2: The Warcry Rumble
That was the day we had looked for the most. Seeing a line-up of 56 Warcry players (even if one dropped out just last minute) was pretty amazing. Everybody was clearly in love with the game, both veterans and novices alike, and most importantly with its spirit as an essentially narrative game. Everyone I played against had a story for their warband or had made some really nice conversions.
I wish I could have taken pictures of all 55 warbands, but alas it wasn't possible, but here are the ones I managed to take, even if in some cases I don't know who their owners are. Anyway, as we started playing, I wasn't expecting anything more but to have four nice games. I had that... and a lot more!
It turned out that Kalyustar's Cursed Company, since its inception a shambling horde of skeletons, is particularly good at the Warcry Rumble battleplans. Put it very simply, the weight of their numbers means that opponents often cannot take objectives away from them. It doesn't matter that the skeletons fall in droves and don't inflict as much casualties in return, there is always enough of them to keep controlling the objectives.
Still, the games were all tense, in no small part thanks to the fact that the Side Quests gave my opponents plenty of chances to score Victory Points without contesting objectives. Nonetheless, and to my surprise, I won all my first three games... and by turn four ended up playing on Table 1 with a chance at winning the whole tournament.
That was the tensest game of the day, and I was in the lead for the first two turns. Then, in turn 3 I got cocky, completely forgot about the Side Quest and gave a chance for my opponent to equalise the score. Turn 4 was a constant back and forth, but by the end of it I was a single Victory Point behind my opponent and finished the tournament in 6th position. Still... a lot higher than I had expected I would have finished!
But the most important thing, was that I had some truly great games, and I can't thank enough my opponents Eloi Garrido, Mathias Brusselaers, Lars Nordal Jensen and Michael Appleton!
Day 3: Casual Gaming and Goodbyes
On the Monday we were all rather tired and agreed to meet at 10ish. I had to be at the airport by 1.30ish, so that gave us time for one last game, which I played with Lee while Saul played another Rumbler we had met the day before.
It was good fun, but then, for the second time in a very short time, I had to say goodbye to a place and people that have meant so much for me and my hobbying.
Oh well! Let's look at the bright side and forward to painting a full Stormvault board for my future games!
Lathanshar the Emulatrix
Lathanshar gazed upon the glory of Shalaxi Helbane when they were but a common Daemonette. Seeing the impossible grace of Slaanesh's favoured hunter as they fought a raging Bloodthirster, a new obsession blossomed in Lathanshar's mind. They had to be like Helbane in appearance and skills. To this end, they strived for centuries, hunting down and besting in single combat mortals and daemons alike who displeased Slaanesh with their dullness. For their efforts, Lathanshar was generously rewarded, quickly raising to the rank of Herald. As their kills continued, sensoriums sprout from their head to help them in the hunt, then a claw morphed into a hand and to match it, a third arm emerged from their body. They then halted their hunts and obsessively studied under the best daemonic weaponsmiths to forge themselves a long spear and a shield.
In the meantime, however, Slaanesh's attention has wondered elsewhere, and though Lathanshar has retaken their hunts, no new rewards come to them. And so the Herald suffers, for they still miss a claw to truly be like their idol. And as they suffer, Lathanshar grows ever more aggressive, their hunts ever more frenzied, their killings ever more gruesome. And yet, they still are denied...

I got the base model for this conversion for free at the Manchester store when the previous Hedonites of Slaanesh battletome was released. Like so many others, it had languished in the bits box until I had to pack my stuff. It was assembled as a regular Daemonette, but I decided to chop it a bit and convert it.

In the bits box, I had a Daemonette Banner Bearer arm, a Tree-Revenant blade left from converting the Shadowkin, a Witch Aelf head and shield from converting the Shroudmaidens and an arm from the Sisters of Silence. The plan was to keep both claws and have a proper small version of Shalaxi Helbane. Hard as I tried, however, I could not keep both the banner and the claw arms without pushing either of them way too much towards the back of the model. So I had to renounce to that. Everything else fitted in just perfectly, including the Tree-Revenant blade which took the place of the chopped away Slaaneshi icon on top of the banner pole.
The slabs of stone on the base are offcuts from an old movement tray.
Painting-wise, I wanted to try a yellow-green palette, rather than the traditional pink-blue-black, against the Daemonette pale skin. I settled for a golden armour and bright green hair, nails, claw and spurs. I still kept touches of blue and black on the tabard, the shade used for the skin and on the stones on the base. The skin looks a bit too rough, but I'm overall happy with the model.
Thork Toadbreath, Gutrippa Boss
Even amongst the Kruleboys, Thork was renowned for the hideous ingenuity of his tactics and the cunning use of his vulcha Eyegouger to spot enemies while remaining unseen. With his boyz, the Back-Breakerz, he had made a name for himself during the conflict in the Bleeding Wilds by constantly surrounding the enemy before finishing them off with deadly pincer movements. During one of these ambushes he was caught in the eddies of the Bleed and dragged into the Ur-River's waters. Somehow Eyegouger managed to follow its master and for days, while Thork held onto the floatsam, the vulcha brought small carcasses for him to feed. Eventually the Gutrippa Boss washed up on the shores of Iscarion, where he quickly looked for shelter from the blinding glare of Hysh, finding it deep in the Lux Umbra. There, he has been enjoying the life of the rover, plundering the tunnels on its own or hiring himself up to unscrupolous adventurers. Yet, he still is fixed only on finding a way back, for he is sure it was one of his boyz that pushed him into the Bleed and he will have bloody revenge.

I bought the Store Anniversary Gutrippa Boss model in October 2022, and as a couple of months later I decided to leave Manchester I rushed to assemble and paint it, least I was tempted to sell it rather than packing it.

As it was a spur of the moment, I didn't convert it and kept the painting farly basic: contrast over a 3-stages zenithal undercoat, followed by drybrushing highlights for the non-metalic parts and a simple Base-Wash-Layer sequence for the metals.

Cadet Baume
Lucas Baume was born from the upper classes of Gallia, and like many privileged youngsters he considered it a great honour to be accepted into the planetary Astra Militarum academy, famed through the Segmentum Pacificum for the utter devotion of his trainees to the Imperial Creed and the dictates of the Adeptus Munitorum. He excelled in his training, showing tactical acumen and total disregard for the safety of the lower ranking trainees he led during gruelling combat simulations. As the perfect candidate for officer duties, he was promoted to Cadet shortly after Lord Regent Guilliman had called the Indomitus Crusade. Gallia sent hundreds of regiments to the mustering grounds and Cadet Baume was seconded to the 9th Light Infantry platoon of the Gallian 1643rd, ready to complete his officer training en route and take command. But their transport was engulfed by a warp storm and spat out of the Malfactus Rift. Harrassed by the orks of Badlanding, the ship managed to reach Finis Sidera and dock there. Cadet Baume offered the few surviving guardsmen to the Rogue Trader cartel running the station, and asked to be deployed in a suicide mission to reclaim the lost sectors of the base. As soon as the soldiers heard his plan, they deserted, joining the crews of Rogue Trader ships. From that day, Cadet Baume has been drinking heavily, ashamed by his failure, and hired himself as bodyguard for the Rogue Traders. Ever since the arrival of Inquisitor Quintus Severus to Finis Sidera, the disgraced soldier has tried to pledge his services to him. The shrewed Inquisitor has not yet accepted the offer, distrustfull of a man unable to fulfil his duties.

This was a model I did to get rid of bits shortly before packing my stuff. It is a simple conversion, the only part requiring some careful work being the cutting of an old Cadian lasgun to be replaced with a boltgun.


The rest of the bits are old Cadian legs, a Tank Officer torso, belt accessories from the Genestealer Cult upgrade pack and a French Infantry head from, I guess, the Brothers Perry's Napoleonic War range. Don't even ask me how that bit found its way into the bitz box!


Obviously, the fact that the torso had braces worked incredibly well with the head, so I replicated the colours of the Light Infantry uniform in the Napoleonic army.