Brotherhood of the Crow part 21

So, I decided to borrow Stuart's idea over at the Lost and the Very Damned and create a "Creatures of Chaos table challenge" for myself. But I am sure it will turn into a "cry because there is no way I can come close to completing this challenge" challenge. My first completed entry will be 94-95 "D3 Plaguebearers."
Here are my second and third plaguebearers for the challenge, Putridsore and Wormrot.

After the plaguebearers I'll be doing entry 98-100 "D6 Nurgling Bases." Since that is the only other entry I currently own the models for.

Chronicles of the Baron of Crows part 5

As he approached the tree it grew in height and detail. Along the black, rotting trunk and branches were etched runes of power in the dark tongue. Even for a worshipper of the Gods the runes were difficult to look upon. The power of the words burrowed its way into his brain like a maggot. He could not pull his eyes away from the yellow glow of the symbols as visions of disease and death burst into his mind. A future where the lands of the Empire were filled with epidemics and plagues. Rotting forests of skulls, plains of bones, mountains of corpses, vast marshlands of the dead stretched out before him. His armor was the color of dried, black blood. Murders of crows darkened the skies and plagues of insects buzzed through the air. Screams echoed across the vast planes and through the rotting forests. Each vista pounded on his brain and was gone just as quickly as it had arrived. The baron's mind swam with the visions of blighted deaths and desiccated landscapes. He saw red castle ruins washed in yellow light with black pennants fluttering in a fetid wind, each with the symbol of a crow on its faded and torn fabric. Plague knights lined the ruined parapets with their armored forms, each a testament to foulness and decay. As he approached the portcullis the knights hailed him as their leader. His coming was heralded by the tolling of giant bronze bells. The deep sonorous notes reverberated through his body and mind. As the bells rung murders of crows took flight from the shattered towers of the castle into the yellow skies. He followed the sound of their caws back through his mind to the dead tree in Nurgle's swamp and found himself staring up into the branches of the black tree. As he listened he found that the raucous calls of the crows began to have meaning.

"Baron, called Bogfiend, Bringer of Plagues, Herald of Disease. You will be our will in the world of men. It is you who will bring ruin to the world and herald our father's arrival in the lands of the living." The words echoed inside Mortimer's mind, overlaid with the rasp of harsh caws and the fluttering of wings.

The demon crows circled the tree except for a single crow larger than the rest. It glared at him from the top branches of the tree. As it whispered its secrets into his mind it sporadically flap its wings, leaving faint traces of yellow runes in the wake of their passing.

"Seek the tree of shades in the heart of the forest and you will find my token there. With it you will rule the Red Keep and bring ruin to the world. It will be by your hand that the world will be remade, if you have the strength, and if not you will be cast aside and another will take your destiny."

At this Mortimer felt fear shift like a worm in his heart. The idea that he would fail and be cast aside while another rose to take the prize that was his. But the fear instantly turned to anger and then hatred. He would rise to dominate the land and no one could stop him. He would crush all before him and defile their rotting corpses. He would take their heads and bring death to yet more enemies. He would raise monuments to his Lord with their rotting flesh and desiccated bones.

As if reading his thoughts the giant crow perching in the high branches took flight and joining with the multitude of circling crow flew at Mortimer like a falling blade. Mortimer threw his hands up in defense, but was too slow. The demon crow tore at his face with its razor sharp talons. Mortimer's screams were drowned in the blood and puss that poured from the wounds. His vision went black as he fell to his knees under the unrelenting onslaught of the demons.

Mortimer screamed into the night as he flailed at the phantasm of his dream. The others woke with a start and brandished weapons hidden under their blankets, ready to defend against attack. Olaf was on his feet, sword in hand, by the time the last of the vision cleared from Mortimer's mind. Johan, whose turn it was at guard duty, merely stared at his lord as he regained his composure.

"What is it my lord?" Johan asked as the others gathered around him.

The leaves of the canopy overhead were beginning to lighten with the coming of dawn. They had made camp in a small clearing that, although it was still under the canopy, let a little of the dawn light through the thick leaves. A light fog clung to the ground where they had slept, spreading out through the trees. Mortimer could just make out the faces of his men in the dim twilight.

"A gift, Johan, sent by our Lord to his faithful. A glimpse of the destiny that is due us." Mortimer said with wide eyes.

"My lord you are wounded," Olaf exclaimed handing Mortimer a piece of cloth.

Mortimer pressed the cloth to his forehead, remembering the attack he had suffered in his vision. He pulled the cloth away and looked at it. The yellow and red foulness on the cloth took the form of three circle. He showed his men with pride.

"The mark of our Lord," he said as they stared. "He has taken me as his champion."

As more light shown through the trees the others could see the lesions on their lord's forehead. A festering wound in the shape of the three circles of Nurgle. They knew then that they had chosen their path wisely.

Brotherhood of the Crow part 20

First post of Trolltober!
I've decided to change the name of my "Nurgle Oldhammer Warband" series since the name of my warband is the Brotherhood of the Crow, lead by the Baron of Crows.

I decided that it was best to have a crow on the Army Standard for the Brotherhood of the Crow, but I also wanted it very clear that it was a Nurgle warband so the back of the banner shows that allegiance. I wanted to emphasize the warband's pacts with daemons so I also added sigils to the banner.

Nurgle Oldhammer Warband part 19

More progress on my army standard bearer. I've finished his skin and most of his armor, except the guard on his right arm. He is coming along nicely. I'm still wondering what I will be painting on the banner and whether or not I'll paint the same thing on both sides. I know I will be painting chaos runes on it though.

Nurgle Oldhammer Warband part 18

I love the old 80s citadel troll models. I've wanted to own one, preferably several, for a long time. Well I finally got an old troll, FTT9 / C31 Giant Half-Troll Champion. I got him from my friend down the street, but he didn't have the axe or shield so I decided to make him a standard bearer with a sword. I wasn't really sure where he could fit into my warband/army since I couldn't really find any rules to use for the model, other than a standard troll which can't wear armor. So I decided to use him as my army standard bearer. In a game I will use him as a chaos champion of Nurgle who has the crossbreed (troll) chaos attribute. I'm still mulling over what skin color he will have, but right now I am leaning toward a turquoise with purplish highlights. I started painting him last night and already made a mistake. I decided that his armor would be a silver color rather than bronze, but as I started to paint his armor I forgot and started painting it bronze. Now I have to go back and fix it, though it shouldn't be a problem. For some reason it seems no one is interested in painting or collecting this model. I can only guess it is probably because there weren't really rules for him so the sculpt was never a big hit. I will post his banner once I have done more with it.

Chronicles of the Baron of Crows part 4

The heat and humidity of the jungle around him caused beads of sweat to break out all over Mortimer's body. He could feel it leaving hot streaks as it travel down his back. The clothes beneath his armor were soaked as he pushed his way through the leaves and vines. He could imagine his skin raw and red from the chafing of the coarse cloth. There was a foulness in the air and the faint aroma of decay, but the baron had gotten used to the smell of dead bodies long ago and he paid it little heed. His goal was to find his way out of the dense jungle. The ground had become more of a marsh than hard earth and each step had become more difficult. He had, at first, tried to find Olaf and the others, but they had been separated and now they no longer returned his calls. He would look for them after he had found his way to an area of open ground and got his bearings. Weak daylight filtered through the canopy above, transforming the light into yellow green hues that made his skin look jaundiced. Strange biting insects flew through the air and he was glad that only the skin of his face was exposed. His armor had begun to rust in several places after months of wear with no maintenance. He had first abandoned the helm that would not accommodate his horns, but kept the chain mail coif. The dirt and grime of continually sleeping in the forest had accumulated quickly and the armor had lost its shine after only a few days. Mortimer didn't care about the condition of his armor as long as it held fast. He praised Nurgle for providing it in the first place. Though now that he was moving through muddy ground it had become more of a hindrance, but Mortimer was not so short sighted that he would abandon it.

Mortimer started at the sound of a crow calling overhead. He hadn't noticed until then that the only sound he had heard for quite a while was the buzzing of the insects swarming around him. Through a rare break in the canopy he saw flashes of a crow flying overhead in the yellow haze of the sky. He could hear it through the trees drifting off the direction he was headed. Further in the distance he could hear the cawing of more crows. The ground under his feet had gradually been getting wetter and now the stagnant water had reached his ankles. He had tried to find dryer ground but anything less than turning back led to deeper water. He decided if it got to his shins he would have to turn back and find another way. The trees were beginning to thin and hanging moss replaced the thick vines. Occasionally collapsed trees revealed more of the featureless yellow haze of the fog shrouded sky. The underbrush had cleared to reveal the thin layer of marsh water that had replaced the wet earth of the jungle floor. Though the forest was still thick many of the trees looked dead and rotted and many of them were twisted into strange and vaguely disturbing shapes. The ground he walked on began to look more and more like a path as the woods to his left and right looked less like a forest and more like a swamp. There were breaks in the tree line that revealed deep patches of swamp with yet more trees beyond. There was still no signs of life besides the insects and the sound of crows. There was no wind. None of the trees around him swayed yet occasionally he could hear the creaking of branches. There was little point in calling out to his companions since they would have no way of crossing the waterways that separated them even if they could hear him.

Mortimer pushed through a thick tangle of brambles and brush that blocked the path he had been following. The thorns cut into his face as he pushed passed them, but the pain barely registered. He felt that his destination was near, though he hadn't realized he had a destination. The vista that met him as he pushed through the last of the bushes brought him to his knees. Stretched before him, to the horizon, was a foul bog and in the farthest distance was a being of vast and ultimate corruption. The massive blob was the embodiment of filth and putrescence. A foul wind blew into Mortimer's face and the noxiousness of the vile odors it contained force the bile to erupt from his mouth onto the marshy ground. After a moment of emptying the contents of his stomach upon the ground he regained his composure and marveled at the scene before him. Wiping the filth from his chin with the back of his hand he stood and began to walk towards the distant figure. His god was not alone in the swamp. Even with the vast distance Mortimer could see that the figure was surrounded for miles by disgusting rotted creatures in the forms of men. Some of them wore rusted and filth encrusted armor and some were naked, green and rotting. The number of forms and mutations was vast and beyond counting. As he walked along the path toward the towering form of putrescence he noticed that not far from him was a blackened and dead tree filled with cawing crows and he realized that this was what had lead him to the putrid swamp.

Nurgle Oldhammer Warband part 17

Along the Olaf I also painted a chaos familiar, but because I have no sorcerer I am debating whether or not to use him as a champion of Khorne with chaos armor and the Shrink attribute. According to Shrink's description it doesn't affect the height very much, but that doesn't really make sense to me since it shrinks him to a 1/4 of his original size. So for fun I am thinking about using him for that. If I do I will use him to lead the Khorne allies of my Nurgle army.