The Gleamdeep Council of Fool's End
On the edges of a wide chasm studded with glowing crystals in the further reaches of Edraele Lux Umbra, lays the settlement called Gleamdeep, the last stop before the unknown regions below the Dornayar Ulkesi.
There, Nirimos Sylai has established a flourishing underwriting business. The Iscarneth will guarantee the success of any venture in the Lux Umbra for what he calls a modest cut of the profits, all terms and conditions of any agreement duly recorded onto his ledger.
Inevitably, these agreements contain an exclusivity clause for the procurement of supplies. Weapons, armour and other gear is to be purchased at Godri Snorrisson's Emporium. Though but a beardling Dispossessed, Godri haggles as hard as any accomplished Kharadron merchant, that being the only thing he is good at, if one was to listen to his clansmen mining the crystals on the chasm slopes.
Lodging before departure, food and water are provided by the Black Gor Inn and its keeper, Tulok Marrowbreath. The ogor's sickly skin tone and foul drool hint he must hail from the Undergut Mawtribe. No one can confirm that, but anytime anyone inquires about the inn keeper's origins, his signature dish, the 'Tasty Stew' is the day special.
Serving the patrons of the Black Gor Inn is Tulok's gnoblar, which he calls Wench. Whenever anyone points out the oddity of that name, the 'Tasty Stew' is again on the menu.
How the three have come together is anybody's guess, but what nobody's can deny is that their venture is surprisingly successful. A steady stream of impoverished adventurers comes to Nirimos' office, ready to pawn whatever they can to get the support of what has become known as the Gleamdeep Council. Still, no party backed by the Gleamdeep Council ever returned with any of the riches they were promised, if they returned at all, a fact that earned the settlement the nickname of Fools' End.
Just for the fun of it, I wanted to add some citizens to my Lux Umbra terrain. Who knows, they might feature as NPCs or objectives in some of the games I'll play for Animosity III.
Nirimos Sylai is converted from a Battlewizard body with arms from the Empire Cannon loader, hands from the Battlewizard kit and a head from the very first Dark Eldar Warriors kit.
I've sculpted the trims on his mantle to hide the damage done to remove the shoulders and to hide the groove where the standard Battlewizard arms would be glued.
Godri Snorrisson is made with the legs of the old multipart Night Goblins, torso from the Empire Militia, a head from the Empire Knights of the White Wolf and belt accessories from the Dwarf Quarrelers.
The arms are from the Empire Militia, with the right hand repositioned and given the long sword from the same kit and the left hand from the Dwarf Quarrelers.
Tulok Marrowbreath and Wench are, respectively, made from the Ironblaster Gunner body and the Baggage Gnoblar from the Gluttons kit.
Tulok's arms are from the Ogor Beastriders kit, with the hands, knife and rib rack from the Gluttons kit. The cleaver and bag of bones are also from the Gluttons kit. The head is from the Leadbelchers, with the left cheeck partly removed so that I was able to tilt it slightly. I've also sculpted hair on it as I find it stupid that all ogors are bald. Finally, to follow the movement of the head, I've repositioned the left foot, cutting it just above the boot and resculpting the damaged area. A greenstuff hapron and knot on the rear of the belt completed the conversion.
On Wench, I've cut away the top of the baggage he carried, preserving the roasted shin poking from it. From the other gnoblar in the Gluttons kit, I've clipped away more roasted shins and then glued all of them where the luggage used to be. Some repair on the shins and a edge around them made with greenstuff made it look like he is carrying a plate of meat.
Aenur, Sword of Twilight
Some say Aenur comes from the Celestial Realm, from one of the fabled White Towers, and that he is a Loremaster of the legendary Eldritch Council. Others claim that he is a Dreadlord in exile. Aenur himself says little about his past and those who are wise do not question him.
Like most hobby veterans, I was extremely excited, back in November 1999, when that month issue of White Dwarf announced the launch of Mordheim. To make things even better, the issue came with a give away: Aenur, Sword of Twilight, one of the Dramatis Personae fighting in the City of the Damned.
Either me or one of my brothers had given a go at painting it. I can't remember who, but the results must have been disappointing as when I fished it out of the backlog box I noticed there were still traces of stripped off paint on it.
This is the first model I've painted using only Contrast Paints for the non-metalic base colours, and I've to say I'm really pleased with them! After some highlights, I weathered his cloack and boots using watered down Typhus Corrosion, followed by a drybrush of Karak Stone when there were still some wet areas in the creases.
I have to say, it is satisfying to see a model painted after 21 years of neglect! And you know what? He might even soon see some action in the Hinterlands of the Mortal Realms.
The Sun in the Mists
"What do yo mean you've lost him?", the darkness of Duskhaven's night retreated from Engrin's smouldering body.
"You promised his oath would be fulfilled at the end of the battle", Tark's rage pushed the night further back.
"And if he died, you owe us his body", Durbak's runes flared as he advanced towards the cornered Mistweaver Saih.
Mist seeped into the ruined building and suddenly there was a miststeel blade under Durbak's chin.
"Viserhyx, what a pleasant surprise!", sarcasm dripped from Laelanyel's every word as the Caengans halted, the air around them shimmering.
"I'll get you your Runefather, sons of Grimnir. In exchange, I only ask you lend me your blades, as I've agreed with him", the creaking of mistbows accompanied her words as more Shadowkin materialised out of the mist. "Is this a fair deal?"
"It is, aelf", replied Tark, smouldering rage sending sparks flying all around. "But mark my words. Fail to return Aef-Grimnir to us before Hysh rises again, and the whole Caengan lodge will be after you".
The Sun of Xereus had risen as soon as Mogrum had lost control of his ritual and the scrimshawed bone had vanished into dust. Now, the Sun was moving onto Duskhaven town square, chasing the darkness with its cerulean light.
The Cleavermaws huddled in a ruined inn, for once silent and glancing sideways at the Sun.
The Gloomfen Hunters entered the town, ready to claim the Sun for themselves.
Vyserhyx's Stalkers moved out of the building, two trails of fogs heading for the opposing warbands.
Laelanyel approached the Sun, the Caengans taking defensive positions around her.
Narlek Swiftblade emerged from the mist and slashed at Bosun Higgs, only to find himself clubbed unconscious by Harad's cannon.
Bekliel tried to hold the Gloomfen Hunters at the entrance of a narrow alley. Yet the aelfs broke through him like a surging tide and flowed into the town square.
Arrows flew from both sides and the air was filled with shrill Khainite cries and booming Zharrgrim warsongs.
Under the cerulean light, aelf and duardin bodies littered the cobbles.
Iyshak materialised in time to see the Cleavermaws leaving the shelter of the ruins and moving onto the square.
Laelanyel felt the bestial mind of Mogrum reachign for the Sun. Its skull visage turned slowly around, falling on a Khinerai and on the Caengans. And then, she found herself surrounded.
The Mistweaver gasped, her lungs filling up with mud summoned by the Hunters' Tidecaster. Staggering, she let her shadegheist ravage the Gloomfen Hunters and the mist take her through the Erebusia Gate.
Harad's cannon boomed, sending Iyshak tumbling down from the balcony he was shooting from.
Laelanyel emerged from the Sunken Gate. Still half-drawn, she did not see Mogrum and his lads falling on her. The Mistweaver found herself pushed against a wall parrying Mogrum's bladed totem-staff with her mist staff.
As she lunged forward, her dagger aimed at the orruk chest, her lungs contracted again and she fell flat on the ground, coughing mud.
The Weirdnob Shaman growled in frustration, his prize taken by the Tidecaster's magic. Now that both duardins and aelfs were gone, his boyz pushed the Dead Man's Chest forward and prepared to capture the Sun.
Laelanyel crawled away. When she felt safe, she removed her mask and wiped the salty mud from her lips. Once again, she was left with nothing, a queen without a crown. And yet, that crown had been so close... as long as Aef-Grimnir was by her side. Much as she hated to admit it to herself, she needed the Runefather. Especially now that the stern gaze of a whole lodge was set upon her.
The brute and the bone
"We must get it back to the magmahold" Tark repeated firmly, holding the lump of ur-gold in front of Aef-Grimnir's stealy eyes. "It took me much effort to put it together. I will not risk loosing it now we are so close to home".
The Runefather wondered for a moment how the Karl had been able to gather the precious metal, considering the number of times he had been nursing a sore head after being blasted with cannon fire. But he could not deny him. Grimnir's body needed to be secured.
"And this will not come to pass" he replied "Engrin, escort the Kinless and inform my son Garn that I am on my way back".
Aef-Grimnir paused, letting his kin savour that revelation. "But do not tarry, none of you! We are still oath-bound to the Lady Laelanyel and those orruks are up to no good".
"Aye, our Lord!" the Slayers replied as one and strode through the Erebusia Gate.
Aef-Grimnir walked back to the chest the orruks had left behind. He could feel the magic of the Realm flowing through it and towards the Wizard's Mansion. Next to it, was Laelanyel.
"It is done", she said. "The Hunters will guard the other locus on the faylines. With their help, I will stop that accursed Shaman from whatever he is trying to do. And you, Aef-Grimnir, will kill him. Do that, and as we agreed, your oath will be fulfilled!"
The Cleavermaw's guarded all the entrances to the Wizard's Mansion. Their ogor was on look-out duties, his cannon trailing back and forth. Mogrum's booming voice rung loud. The ritual had begun.
Aef-Grimnir advanced cautiously. He knew the orruks would have come for him. Laelanyel stood back, syphoning away energy from the chest and hurling it at the Wizard's Mansion in bolts of pure darkness.
The Gloomfen Hunters leapt forward, their Tidecaster holding the locus of power. Their arrows clattered armlessly against the crumbling walls, but that kept the orruk down long enough for the Idoneth to charge.
Mr Deadwood took Ledger and a couple of deckhands with him and rushed for Aef-Grimnir. Just where the Runfather wanted them, on the sharp end of his axe.
Mogrum's ritual chanting boomed out again, waves of Waaaagh! energy filling his boyz and his Shaman assistant. Green lights flashed from his eyes, the boyz choppas fell with uncanny precision and strength.
The Tidecaster stared wide eyed at the orruks' brutality and called for a retreat. As the Idoneth stepped through the Sunken Gate, a pulse of green energy flashed out of the bone clutched in Mogrum's fist. The Cleavermaws cheered loudly.
"Damn traitors!" Laeanyel's scream turned into a tide of shadegheists that engulfed the orruks fighting Aef-Gimnir.
The Sunken Gate bubbled again and the Caengan strode forwards, throwing axes flying at the Cleavermaws.
Aef-Grimnir slammed Mr Deadwood down and prepared to move into the Wizard's MAnsion.
The ogor lept down from his look-out post to get a clear shot. Tark, once again, stood in the path of the grapeshot salvo.
Bosun Higgs then lead the charge as the Shaman channeled more of the Waaagh! seeping from Mogrum into searing beams.
Soon, the Cleavermaws were in control of the locus of power. But that was not enough. Through gritted teeth, Laelanyel wrested away more energy from the chest and sent it harmelessly into the sky.
A weedy grot spyed Aef-Grimnir through a crumbling wall and screeched for help.
The ogor was the first to respond, loosing a salvo on the Runefather and then slamming bodily into him. The rest of the Cleavermaws moved back into the Mansion.
Aef-Grimnir's runes flared bright, giving him the strength to fight through despite the wounds he had suffered. He felled the ogor and barged through the orruks and onto the upper floor to face Mogrum.
Laelanyel poured a hail of sorcerous bolts onto the Weyrnob and Aef's axe rose and fell. But the energies of the scrimshawed bone kept Mogrum safe. Screaming, the Cleavermaws rallied to protect their captain.
Aef-Grimnir launched himself once again against Mogrum, nearly pitching him off the floor. And then, the Runefather disappeared into the press of green bodies.
Laelanyel saw bright flames burst and then gutter as Mogrum's voice faltered. A shiver run along the fayline on which the Mistweaver was standing. In the distance, an ominous glare started to pulse and grow.
