Heralds of Nurgle #2

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Papule the Corpulent
Master Daubenton,

Rumours are common from world to world of deviancy in the extreme being rife amongst the societal structures of the hive spyre nobilitie.  Often this transpires to be naught but the indolent, self indulgent rich partaking of alcohol, narcotics and the pleasures of the flesh. Seldom, as I am sure you are aware, such deplorable behaviours spiral downwards into outright depravity and worship of the Forbidden Powers (may the Emperor curse them).

Whilst pursuing several leads in the Administratum data-stacks, an unexpected correlation came to light which will prove of interest in our wider investigations into the Thrixis matter, particularly given our recent encounter with the scions of the Dark Prince, Slaanesh.

It would seem that several hundred years ago, certain of the noble caste of Vesuvion Secondaglio hive had been spicing up their orgies by indulging themselves in the forbidden lore of Slaanesh. Although, again there is nothing unique about this manner of perfidy, the time period in question does seem to correlate with the presence in the sub-sector of (I shall make an educated assumption here) none other than Thrixis himself. I assume that in an effort to spread dissent, he made available certain proscribed texts in order that certain ceremonies be enacted.

As you may not be aware, several cult members were apprehended by a colleague of yours, one Inquisitrix Tharanga Singh of the Ordo Hereticus. These sorry individuals were of course put to the question. Data capture and full transcripts were available from the Ordos Abstrusse when I inquired (for a wonder, given recent frustrations in a similar vein!) and are attached to this missive for your later perusal.

In summation, it was found that standard methods of putting these wretches to the question were not availing much success. It would seem that rather than inflicting torture, the withholding of the same oddly produced the required effect. Perhaps not a surprise given that buggery and beatings could be counted among the tamer pastimes of a cult such as the one in question. However, rather than bore you with the details of their admittedly broad spectrum of unpalatable behaviours, I will relate one particular anecdote that will no doubt surprise you.

It would seem that two of the ring leading cult members, one Lord and Lady Fatoush ran into some amount of trouble during the course of their extended carnal pursuits.  It would seem that Lady Fatoush fell foul of a rather exotic strand of an ailment of ancient Terra known as syphilis or the French Pox (which has long been though to be extinct). This initially presented itself in the form of reddish papules and nodules, before developing into strange 'gummas' which you and I might more commonly refer to as non-cancerous growths. Now, this particular strain of the ailment seemed to develop very rapidly indeed, and proceeded to the stage of wild hallucinations and madness, as lesions formed in her brain.

Quite unexpectedly, Lord Fatoush was overcome with despair and heartbreak, and turned away from his patron deity in favour of the plague God, Nurgle. It is claimed he wailed and moaned and begged for seven times seven days and nights for Lady Fatoush to be spared the dread French Pox, before his prayers were (in a manner of speaking) answered. As a minor aside, as we have heard before in the course of our investigations, it is held by the advocates of Nurgle that said deity has a sense of humour. Perhaps no surprise then, that Lady Fatoush was spared the French Pox, only to be struck down by Necrotising fasciitis. 

In his grief, Lord Fatoush proceeded to eat himself to death and his bloated corpse was found surrounded by the rotting remains of mounds and mounds of food.

If there is a moral to this, I am unsure. It does serve to reinforce the fact that the Chaos powers are indeed fickle and untrustworthy. Woe betide those that would meddle in that aetherial realm.

The Emperor Protects.

Your servant, as ever,

Fergus Ronayne
Interrogator First Class
Ordo Malleus

Heralds of Nurgle #1

Quite some time ago I built up some Heralds of Nurgle for my Daemons of Nurgle force, using mainly the Putrid Blight Kings models. I finished them last week, and here is the first one...

Anthraxicor of Worms

During the course of my investigations into rumours of certain proscribed texts in the outlying areas and the depths of the Abstruse Sector, I learned that on the agri-world of Raynard's Pasture, in the depths of the Abstruse Sector, there is a legend that is still told in the tavernas, when the workers are in their cups. Nobody has been able to credit to its veracity, as no information exists in the data stacks of the local Administratum to confirm or deny this tale of strange events which may or may not (as the case may be) have occurred at some unspecified point several hundred years ago. Suffice to say it occurred before the great grandparents of the drinkers of today were even a twinkle in the eye of their own mothers and fathers. I shall leave it to you to speculate, my lord.

One year, back in the mists of time, Raynard's Pasture had allegedly been beset with unsettled weather, plant disease and other unfavourable vagaries of the local climate. It seemed inevitable that the global ploin harvest would fail, and the mega-herds of beouf-grunters (an indigenous type of bovine domesticated for meat and dairy purposes; docile, yet most unpleasant to look upon, resembling an odd combination of an arachnid of some kind, and a cow of Olde Terra; but all would agree that they taste similar to chicken) were sickening and dying by the score from an unknown ailment, seemingly inflicted by some kind of off-world parasite accidentally brought planet-side somehow...  Indeed, many neighbouring worlds depended (and still depend to this day) on the produce of Raynard's Pasture. But, at that time, it did seem that they would in turn, perish from hunger.

Driven to the point of desperation, workers lived in fear, and being relatively simple folk, were prone to superstition.  Even the planetary governor himself (nobody can decide what his name may have been, if indeed he had existed at all) was something of a superstitious fool; although a generally pious fellow, he could not shake the sense that Raynard's Pasture had drifted somehow out of the Emperor's holy light.  Pray and beseech the Emperor though they might, nothing seemed to change.

The situation was bleak, until one fateful and overcast day, the governor was visited by a mysterious stranger, who may have gone by the name of Thryxll, or Twyztrx, or something of that ilk. All would agree that it was nigh unpronounceable, and therefore must be unspellable, and ultimately it's veracity could never be proved. Obviously. What had occurred during this meeting is the subject of some speculation, but the popular version holds that the governor received instruction of an ‘arcane nature’ from the mysterious visitor.

And what might such instruction of an arcane nature entail? What might it have hoped to achieve? Word around the various barrooms and tavernas popularly hold thus (as related by an elderly yokel type who wished not to be named):

“Yer Guvnor, well, he spake to this strange feller, like, name o’ old Thrixamabobs or summink, who gone an’ tell ‘im to beseech yon fertility God o’these parts ‘ereabouts, “Worms” dey called ‘em, if ye can believe dat. Now some’d tell ‘ee that ‘ee be a benign bein’, dis Worms, ere. Tha’s not strickly true, though. Not to say ‘ee warn’t possessed ov a peverse sense a ‘yoomur, though. Not that any man worth ‘on ‘is salt’ll admit to really believin’ it, loik.

"Well, dey says dat on dat very noit, some juvies was out in yon orchard jus’ over der thoroughfayre smokin’ dat der’ rag-weed what dey used ta smoke in them days. N’ dey saw ‘im, der Guvnor, stuffin’ ploins up ‘is bare arse, loik. All chantin’ an’ such ee were.

Then ee wanders off, they says, so dese juvies, loik, dey thinks its funny to follow ‘im, so they does. Roight down yon lane, dere, to the pastures. And dey sees ‘im all daubin’ ‘imself wi’ shoite, n’ dancin’ about n’ that. As if dat toipe o’ behaviour ain’t mad enough for ye, then he gone n’ had congress wi’ one o’ them beouf-grunters. You’d ne’er catch me doin’ tha’. Norra chance. Norronyerbloodynelly, loik.”

 Another old gadger who was seated nearby chipped in at this point:

“Bleedin’ beouf-grunter, well it gone an’ate ‘im up after he’d finished, n’all. Can’t say as oi blames the beastie, loik. Some fair indignity, that is. Well, next day loik, when yer ‘erders gone down the pasture loik, they sees this beouf-grunter all keeled o’er on it’s soid, loik. N’ as dey be watchin’ it bursts roight open an summink come crawlin’ up out on’its belly. Shaped loik a man dey says, but wid a spoiders arm, n’ der moind ova spoider n’all. Locals ‘ereabouts took ta callin’ ‘im Anthraxicor.”

From what I can gather, the blight on the crops and the parasites that beset the beouf-grunter herds allegedly dissipated over the course of the next day and night. Being an educated fellow as I am, I put no great store in such superstitious twaddle and windbaggery as this, but the locals still almost believe this “Anthraxicor” character can be called on to “save the harvest”, should the need ever arise.

I find the entire concept to be utterly preposterous, although I will admit we should be cautious, as we’ve been surprised by the veracity of even more ludicrous nonsense in the past.

Yours, as ever, in Service to his Holiness the God-Emperor,

Fergus Ronayne

Interrogator 1^st Class

Ordo Malleus

Ork kill team update: ammo runtz

In an effort to bring a small but drawn out project to a close, I opted to plough through a bunch of ammo runtz to round things out. Nowt sparkling, I'm afraid, but they'll do the job well enough.

One of these is straight out of the Nobz kit, the other 2 are kitbashed from gnoblar trappers with grot heads. Like the rest of the kill team, they've been mounted on Scibor resin bases.

Ork Kill Team update: Bacon Ear and chums

Nowt really to say, other than the big 'uns are all now completed. A mere 3 grots to follow...

Bonny Prince Billy: Ork Kill Team revisited...

A goodly while ago I started work on an Ork Kill Team with the old 4th ed rules in mind. As is usual for many of us, this turned out to be a project that got 60% completed and then forgotten about.

Over the last few days, I felt oddly compelled to paint up the remaining orks. For this post, I'll give you the notorious freebooter, Bonny Prince Billy.

I had the idea for Bonny Prince Billy quite some time ago.  I'd felt inspired to paint him up in a way that was influenced by (as well as by general piratical garb) C17th European aristocrats, with their tendency to cover up smallpox scarring with white powder make-up, and use spots of black velvet to cover particularly deep pock marks (yep, that's what those artificial beauty spots were all about). I also thought that this kind of stylistic ethos might fit quite well with the fashion whims amongst the aristocracy of the wider 40k era Imperium. So I've given this guy a very light shade of green overlaying his face to try and show this.  I did draw the line at giving him a fake beauty spot though. I dunno, though, maybe I should add one.

I haven't converted this model at all. It seemed to capture what I wanted already. He looks like he's striking a victorious pose for a portrait or some-such, which I thought was a suitably pompous look for a 'oomie imitating tough, roaming and looting on the galactic tides.

Other members of the team can be viewed at the links below:
Spag Bol
Dutch
Dokta Heimlich
Komrad Blenski
Silent
Gnasha

There is also another one known as Bacon Ear, but I think I neglected to blog about him. I'll look into it...

WIP - Genestealer cultist from Deathwatch: Overkill

Bon soir or other (probably) mispelt and incorrectly time-framed French greeting.

Here are a couple of pics of my test (and no doubt final) scheme for my Genestealer cultists.

Not really too much to add is there? I've gone for a dull green / grey scheme with purple spot colour.

Undecided on the colour for the bases at this point though.

Terrain build for INQ28 / WH40K

Recently, myself and Wace picked up and split the Renegade boxed game recently released by Games Workshop, both wanting to have a Knight Titan each. After a £30 discount courtesy of Dark Sphere, this meant that we each had a Knight for a mere £45 each.

However, the box contained a building too. So, given that I have plenty of terrain at my place, and that the stuff at Wace's could do with bolstering, I volunteered to put something together, incorporating some parts I had left over from my own terrain builds.

I wanted this to be a bit ramshackle (which is lucky!), and to have a decent playable area, whilst not being totally run of the mill.  Judge for yourselves: