Evil Dwarf Escort Vessels of Ancient Times
Shading his eyes against the fiery glare below, captain Uhr-Maduknezhar stood astride up in the commanding archer tower of the slave galley Grasp of Lidunammu. The scarred and grizzled seaman observed the chaotic battle scene in the archipelago below while smoke columns obscured his view. He gripped one pointy merlon to counter the worst rockings of the crenellated tower as the frantic sea waves tossed the narrow ship about. The sounds of blackpowder blasts, creakingIn the accursed salty wet, debris and bodies both alive and dead littered the surroundings, picked at by bloodthirsty sharks and yet worse behemoths of the depths, some of them a danger to the unharmed vessels. The situation was difficult to assess, for behind the smoke, the flimsy wooden masts and sails of the enemy fleet had become an indecipherable tangle.
“Our fire ships shouldn’t ever have let loose at such an angle,” groaned decksofficer Bel-Ninridu, gesticulating madly at the unquenchable flames dancing across waves and wrecks below. “Just look at it! It’s a bloody mess of firewalls down there, smokescreens shielding their escape. Gallows!”
Without glancing at his subordinate, Uhr-Marduknezhar replied: “Our metal hulls have passed through seas of molten rock. Our rams have licked the waves of hell. What’s a little flame to that?”
“With our ship unenchanted, without the preparatory rites, the rowers will perish at oars. We’ll be stranded at great cost,” said Bel-Ninridu.
“Then let the slaves broil and burn in their shackles if they wish to succumb to a little heat,” said Uhr-Marduknezhar. "The roasted thralls will make for fine steaks. The omens are right, I am sure of it. Signal the helmsman, bring the Grasp of Lidunammuabout and aim her at the largest pillar of smoke, right there. Then signal the taskmaster: Breakneck speed, full ahead. The gods will it! And brace for impact."
“Aye, aye, cap’n!”
Sculpting for casting means that the army is on the backburner. Still, for each or every second tournament we usually wish to finish converting or even painting something new for our armies, and for the weekend’s tourney I’ve prepared a couple more K’daai Fireborn. The taller K’daai is a Dungeons & Dragons Elemental Evil: Fire Myrmidon, and the smaller one a Djinn of Fire from Shieldwolf miniatures. Also, a petard with crew from AtomTaylor (9th Age light artillery on 40mm round base with indirect fire) has been on the workbench. Soon to be glued together. I’d hoped to have the latter fully painted come tournament and log update, but will not have time and directly after the tourney it’s back to commercial sculpting. Maybe for next tournament. Fingers crossed the new army list will lift ranking from the bottom-most place. :yar
AtomTaylor sculpts Oldhammer miniatures, true to the originals’ style and nice looking. I recommend them particularly for their sheer character. They’re full of it! Plus every single crewman comes with a weapon in hand or at belt.
Me and my brother liked the jolly petard and crew a lot on first sight, and were immediately inspired to do some conversions (almost no mini in my collections are immune to green stuff). I wanted to add a few details to the petard and tie in the crew with the rest of the army, so curlybeards and some extra armour was the order of the day.
I had planned to give the petard some Chaotic segmented goat horns, but my little brother pointed out that the bare petard resembled a bull well enough with its face, so bull horns it was. I had originally planned a quite monotone and probably dull paint scheme for it, but my brother immediately saw its resemblance to something called a weeping bell, which will vagually be carried over in metallics and oxidized bronze and red teeth dags in the paintjob. Also added some slime drool because of that odd reference.
The skull mask crewman were originally intended for only minor conversions, but my brother spotted it for a candidate as some 80s thing called Skeleton, and then for a potential Sandy Claws. The latter option was surprisingly fitting, given how FW gave their artillery officers pointy hats with a little skull on top, so he won the day. I guess it’s only right that the little brother gets to decide how the little cannon shall look in the army.
Here’s my entry from the concept art contest. Had hoped to paint a picture for it as well, but time ran out. It’s a concept for some planned evil Dwarf sculpts, Faceless Ones, infernal torturers, slavers and terror troops for psychological warfare on steroids. I needed to map out potential tools, equipment and weapons to be used on the models, and included one or two Bronze Age ones such as the boarding pike:
Next up, Slave Orcs!
Orc Slaves of Ancient Times
Based on a lot of valuable feedback from here.
Heads have been sculpted first, since they’ll be handy to have finished for posing and sculpting the bodies. 12 head variants for 6 bodies will give space for choice. I do not have the materials to swiftly photograph the heads sufficiently well together (also besides a WHFB Orc head for scale) and size comparison. Will have to fix something soon. In the meanwhile, here we have some ugly, warty, scarred slaves, with hides sculpted to hint at roughness and weather-bitten skin. Notes per head.
Enjoy, or get disgusted as you see fit. 
1: Face cage with lock for key placed at nose. Roughly hammered iron bands riveted together. Nailed into head. Angry face and upright ears tell us why his head is locked in.
2: Face bars.
3: Mix between scold’s bridle and dirt-eater mask. Head is the smallest of the bunch. Will need some jaw inflation.
4: Evil dwarf fantasy version of owner stamp to the forehead. Runic plate riveted to forehead, with chainmail veil and sewn-shut lips.
5: Stitched lips with bull nose ring. Slaves are like cattle, pull them along! Swollen bruise on top of head.
6: Head in a sack. My brother’s idea.
7: Bandaged eye, half a red smile.
8: Jawless head. Stark cruelty. Based on WWI wounded without jaws.
9: Limp hair head. A nest for lice, sure, but it’s intended to convey the pathetic look.
10: Open mouth face. Tongue sticking out with both tusks broken off. Raised scar on one cheek.
11: 1/3 flayed head. Transition head to go along with the one below. There will be some few flayed or partially flayed body parts, and one very unlucky sod who at least have both arms unshackled and both hands intact…
12: Flayed head. Small skin patches remaining at the back of the head, for transition to bodies with skin.
Below are reference pictures for sculpting the bodies:
Hobgoblin Slavedrivers
As per Carcearion’s advice, here are two taskmasters to herd the Orcs along. Scale is still a bit off from ideal, but the size in the sculpts might be on the right track. Their feet and legs are not as lively as one could have hoped for, but they’ll have to do. The first Orc pilot sculpt is a lot livelier, so the big eye-catchers should hold more movement in them.
These slavedrivers will be released as a small kit on their own, and way ahead of the Orc slaves. Will probably include a couple of small pots as kit extras depending on mould space, to make use of the reject excess Zealot sculpts. You’ll see a lot of this practice in future kits, small bits and bobs that should help lend character to the whole tabletop setting.
As per Bloodbeard’s advice, these Slavedrivers will not include Chaos Dwarf bitz, such as a hand with whip, hand with decapitated Orc head or the like. Such bitz will almost certainly show up later, either with a dedicated slave butcher/torturer hero sculpt, or as optional hands for the planned rank and file torturer/crewmen kit.
The armour and clothes are based on some Persian warrior garb seen in the second picture below. Note the chubby whipper. If you wonder where the amputated thrall parts went, he probably ate them! The prodder’s spearhead breaks the regional inspiration, sort of, since it’s based on a British bronze age spear head, not Middle Eastern/eastern Mediterranean ones, but what the heck, I just went with what looked most interesting on a quick picture search. Also note the prodder’s eyepatch.
Fuggit Khan’s emissary stands for size comparison:
Evil Dwarf Cylinder Seal Rolling Pin Flatsculpts
Technical: This quick project was done at the request of Enjoysrandom, as one of several planned little breaks from the ongoing Orc slave sculpts.
This is an experiment. It’s a couple of 5x10 cm flatsculpts intended to be translated into rolling pins (see also cylinder seals). Good advice was gathered from Enjoysrandom and Jackswift in particular, but I’ve come to realize that my steadiness of hands, eye-measurement and sense of straight symmetrical lines will not be up to the challenge of producing a cylindrical negative of the flatsculpts for resin casting. (Diameter of the cylinders will be 3 cm, take away possibly 1-2 mm.) As such I’ll attempt to ask a few moulding companies, including Green Stuff World, if they have the expertise and will to carry it out on commission, and to what price. The resin moulds at Zealot will be surprisingly cheap, yet a steep commission cost could ruin the end product’s price.
Should any volunteer wish to do it, then shout out! We’ll see how it all turns out, but if these flatsculpts won’t be turned into succesful cylinder seals soon, then perhaps the flatsculpts themselves could be cast. Either as negatives for green stuff stamps, or as resin wall pieces as the sculpts themselves are. Investigations to take place.
First of all, my sense of straight lines and symmetry are about as shaky as my sense of scale and measurement. A bit odd, given how almost all hobbies and interests involving handiwork I have had since early childhood years revolve around these, and I’ve also worked some with tasks requiring precision measurements (which I repeatedly failed at due to inherent weakness at this area).
This means that the plasticard panels themselves were cut to 5x10,6 or something centimetres (the extra width millimetres are there in case they would be needed for the cylinder), but I couldn’t achieve perfectly straight lines after cleaning. This won’t matter if the flatsculpts makes it through to cylinders, but will matter and require some hobbyist filing if the flatsculpts themselves would be cast as resin wall pieces. Furthermore, while their ends align a tad better than can be seen in the photos and they are not as wavy as they might appear, no line is perfectly straight with the wall adornments. It’s all measured and very much sculpted with a ruler, but perfection it is not.
To hide these and other sculpting flaws, I went for a rougher stone texture with a less perfect finish than you would find in actual palace wall carvings in real ancient history. It should probably all come together well enough when painted, is my guess, but the customers will have to decide for themselves once they see pictures of the end products.
Reference:
Aesthetics: The top and bottom decoration borders are sculpted so as to be cross-compatible between wall sections, and this will almost certainly hold true in any potential future wall relief sculpts that might get released if these prove popular enough. The borders are there to show a mortal world caught between a rock and a hard place, with stormy lightning-ridden skies above, and hellfire and dreary underworld below, with demons and capricious gods playing cruel games with the fates of mortals in the region in-between.
Triumph & Thralldom
Sculpted with excessive, mayhap bewildering detail, these scenes and my tastes have something in common with the original Assyrian wall reliefs which inspired it: A belief in that more is more. Possibly it is just a jolly mass of chaos, and possibly it rewards the patient viewer who takes a longer look at the scenes.
The small scale of it and the original purpose of serving as a rolling pin meant that detail couldn’t be taken down too intensely in the small figures, as will be obvious with the faces in particular.
The relief is divided into two halves, mimicking the Standard of Ur with its war and peace halves. For grimdark purposes, we instead have triumph and thralldom, i.e. the half to the left of the erupting volcano sporting evil Dwarf cruelty against a defeated Human tribe while the right side shows masses of slaves labouring at moving a stone lamassu, and the logistics involved in such an operation (simplified version of the second reference picture’s two reliefs above).
Four Reliefs
The second flatsculpt is done in a different way. At the request of Enjoysrandom, this was quartered into four parts which could be rolled out all at once producing a line of scenes, but could also be used one quarted at a time, anywhere you wish on a terrain piece, i.e. producing an isolated quarter of the rolling pin and nothing else wherever you wish.
First panel based somewhat on this story, with the fourth panel sporting the burning cow from this one.
First off, Zealot Miniatures doing the resin casting of the plates have been swamped by orders, and are first now getting to cast them. And Custom Made Miniatures casting the Hobgoblin slavedrivers met some harsh problems when their vaccuum pump broke down and the delivery guy ran off with its highly expensive replacement (they found an old one, and have just started casting).
Hopefully those kits can get released during the summer months.
Also, Zealot Miniatures needed to drill holes through undetailed areas due to mould suction in the flat plates. Should be easy to fill-in:
Next, the Orc slave heads have recently been sent to Custom Made Miniatures for whitemetal casting. I ran into some anatomy sculpting issues with a slave orc pilot sculpt. This was expected and was the reason why I wanted to practice on a pilot first, but it was not what was needed at the time (contributed to the hobby downtime until now). So, as the bodies will be picked up again later after some more practice, the heads have been sent off to become a bitz kit. They’re intentionally a bit bigger than normal GW Orc heads because they’re made for bigger and bulkier bodies, but the millimeter difference was smaller than I remembered. Scale shots to come after casting.
After some hobby downtime with sporadic minor work it’s back to business. First up, a newly arrived emissary of Karagazkar, courtesy of Carcearion! (Need to get some proper terrain done for background.)
Taking aim at the stranger, the guards recognize the emblem of the Red Host emblazoned upon his unfurled scroll. The sentries stay wary of the fire Daemoness. After some questions and inspection of seals, he is let into the fortress.
Left waiting for long hours in a forechamber, the diplomat comes face to face with the dastardly ambassador from da Khan of Khans. Clandestine backroom dealings ensue, determining the fates of thousands of lesser souls and exchanging precious bribes. The shady event is reported upon by a specially trained Sneaky Git, skulking in the shadows, who has his hands chained together behind his back to prevent instinctive stabbing actions. Routine intrigue among the corridors of power of Mingol Zharr-Naggrund the Great and all her holdings.
After endless waiting, an audience is at last granted the patient emissary… That is, an audience with the seventh wife of Sorcerer-Prophet Nir-Kezhar. Many more arduous and time-consuming steps of protocol and fiery purification rites must be waded through before an actual audience with the sought Sorcerer-Prophet may be arranged. The Hobgoblin diplomat, having been denied even the lowliest audience so far on account of his slave blood, is attached to the Chaos Dwarf of Karagazkar as retinue to clear adamant formalities and at last allow diplomatic exchange with the court of Nir-Kezhar.
As you can see, Carcearion cooked up a great conversion for his emissary! He even asked me for my army’s emblem. It didn’t have any previously, so this one featuring lightning horns was made up on the spot:
Next up in the painting queue stands the emissaries for Fuggit Khan and Carcearion. Converted and basecoated, to be painted as soon as the brush itch hits.
Also, as per Enjoysrandom’s idea work has started on a Grand Admiral or evil dwarf pirate lord sculpt, based upon Jackswift’s inventive sketch. Check out the slave rowers on top of the hat!
This miniature will feature many optional parts. If you have ideas for things to change or for bits you wish to see included in the kit, then by all means shout out! Feedback from Enjoysrandom and Fuggit Khan has already helped steer the plans of this project.
Wall Relief Plates of Ancient Times are out now.
Hunger gnawed in his gut, and his eyes were dry like desert sand, yet still Hamukk bore a smile on his hollow-cheeked face. He had done it! He had outsmarted the stunted masters with their log-thick arms and coiled beards. He had outran their stumped feet and cruel hands. He had hid, and he had sneaked. He had covered his tracks and kept one step ahead of their vicious lackeys all of the time. The jackals! The dogs! All outwitted. His long plight of labour and hardship was at long last over. Freedom would be his, and slavery but a rotten memory with which to scare his future grandchildren. Praise the gods!
Hamukk, son of Bernu and Ishya, of the Human tribe Lakash, ran a calloused hand through his dirty, straight black hair. That hand had only three and a half fingers left. He shivered at the thought, yet smirked triumphantly at the certain knowledge that his captors would never set their brands and blades and tongs to him again. The thrill ran through him, blood rushing in his veins and feeding his hopes. And all thanks to a chance overhearing!
That sun-scorched day would stay with him forever. That moment, when he stood chest-deep in the muddy river waters and harvested reeds with a burnt clay sickle, and the priestly acolytes walked past slothfully. Their conversation had for some reason raised his interest from the very start, and he had memorized every word of theirs. They had talked of a labyrinth, a place of darkness through which no man not chosen by the gods or anointed in blood by demons could pass. They had named the location, and it was not far off. Most importantly, they discussed rumours of long maze tunnels leading out to hostile tribal grounds with gates wide open and undefended. Thereupon the short, bulky acolytes had reaffirmed their faith in their foul gods by praising the deities for watching over the labyrinth.
A labyrinth! He had trekked through mountain ravines all his life before being caught by the devious blockbeards from the lowlands, and he would take his chances with a mere handmade maze any day. The trick was to not walk in circles, he had decided. Hamukk had then and there determined that this was a sign from his people’s gods, and had acted quickly, stealing provisions and torches in the night, running off into the windy wastelands, zigzagging through nigh-on lifeless terrain and walking in a long crescent toward the spot mentioned by the acolytes.
It was indeed undefended, except for by some scorpions just inside the entrance. They had nearly been the end of him, but he had glimpsed them in the ruddy light and brought his flaming torch down upon the venomous critters, scaring off the scorpions and clearing the way. Fire truly was a stolen gift from the gods. It gave man power over beast, and man power over darkness. With his torches he had already made it through most of the maze, he was sure.
There were costly relief carvings everywhere on the walls, painted in gaudy colours and covered with figures. The relief carvings seldom repeated and thus he had good reason to think that he had not gone in small circles more than thrice. In the light of his flame he could spot the accursed Dwarfs’ conception of gods, goddesses, demons and myths. He spotted historical scenes of slavery, warfare and hardship, as well as great works undertaken, sorcery and above all atrocities. There was flaying and maiming and crushing, done by malevolent Dwarfs, usually against Humans and Goblins. They did indeed like to brag about their cruelties, didn’t they? But those scenes no longer concerned him. He was no longer part of their malice and torture. His trusty torches would carry him through, like a beacon of the gods. Yet there was only one torch left now, and still there was no end in sight of the maze…
The cocky smile vanished. Hamukk swallowed, and moved faster, more rashly than before. He stopped memorizing relief scenes for the sake of speed. The exit must be here somewhere! As the flames burned out their oily fuel, he ripped off his bandages, his headband, his loincloth and even loose hair to feed the fire. He could get other clothes later, but not another life. Steps clattered and echoed through the cool labyrinth, faster and faster. He blowed as much air as he dared into the dying embers, blowing up small flame tongues anew. Hamukk saw less and less of the richly carved stone walls around him, and relied ever more on his hands to guide him along the walls. The darkness was closing in. Damn…!
The torch went out with a sputter and sizzle. Hamukk blinked at the coloured lights dancing across his retina. When they were gone, nothing remained. There was not even moonlight reflected in the corridor. Everything went solid black.
Teeth clattered as the escaped slave fought a wild panic welling up from within. He began scrambling down corridors, hands shaking on walls to his left and right as he sought guidance. He slid past corners in a stumbling jog, panting and whining. He fell and rose, unseen bruises already aching on all limbs. He had to get out! He ran for it, ran hard, and crashed into a stone wall. The violent impact stole away his breath and senses, for how long he did not know.
Hamukk eventually woke up on the smooth floor, or was he perhaps still asleep? It was impossible to tell the difference. His eyes gave the same report whether they were shut or open. Blackness, and nothing more.
The man’s head was strangely numb yet at the same time beset with sharp pangs of pain. Hamukk suspected that his headlong collision with the wall had damaged his mind. His nose was broken, and he had lost two of his teeth, worn by millstone flakes as they were. He prayed to three gods and seven goddesses, yet heard no response. Was he already in the netherworld? Was this the place of dust and darkness that all men feared to enter? How would the other spirits react to a living man among themselves? Or was he even still alive?
Hamukk had no way to tell. For untold hours he sat on his haunches while his head spinned worse and worse. His thoughts turned into a maelstrom of confusion. At last, he reached the bewildered conclusion that demons were stealing away his mind. He rose up and swore heinously at them, uttering such foul words that men would have killed him for the insult. Yes. Demons! It was the demons! The former slave fell silent for a while. Then he whispered: “Reveal yourselves.”
And in the darkness, the eyes of all the relief figures on the walls lit up, like a nightsky of red embers. Watching him, uncaring. It was as if all the gods had convened to judge his soul, and found him a subject unworthy to even assemble court for. They stared at him. Forever.
It was the final straw. Hamukk fell hard to his knees, warm blood trickling across the cold obsidian floor. He clawed at his eyes in madness. And screamed until his lungs burst.