Coming Soon

The Before Times Presents

 Shadows of Middenland

A Warhammer Campaign in Multiple Parts

More Griffon pictures.

Griffon

WiP Griffon. Always liked this model, glad I was able to get one a little while ago.

Emperor's Wrath all but completed

Just needs to be based.

More progress on the Steam Tank Emperor's Wrath.

Emperor's Wrath

Aaaaaand we're back!

The campaign's on a temporary hold since I had to move recently, but that doesn't mean I can't get some painting done for other things.

Decided to finish painting a STank I've been stuck on for awhile after re-reading Uniforms & Heraldry of the Empire and noticing the Emperor's Wrath which is stationed at Middenheim.

Blade, Bow, and Bone: Cold Nights

Ernst Kreuger cursed the cold. 

It had been three years since he’d taken up residence in the ruins of Castle Drachenfels and he still wasn’t any closer to his goal than when he’d arrived. No matter how often he delved, his searches had turned up nothing of Drachenfels’ work. He felt he could hear the laughter of the ancient necromancer taunting him. Not for the first time, he cursed the circumstances that brought that damned book into his possession, though it was his most prized belonging. 

Kreuger idly wondered what had ever become of the town guard that had brought the tome to a young priest of Morr so many years ago. Had it really been 8 years since he’d started down this dark path? A moment of curiosity and a few experiments were all it took to instill in him a desire to abandon mortality. A moment of curiosity. All it took to send him into a life of hiding from the priesthood and their Black Guard hunters. The book had taught him much since then, but not nearly enough.

The book had sent him into the wilderness, but legends had brought him to the castle. Legends of a necromancer who had defied death since before even Sigmar himself had walked the world. Kreuger hoped to find the secret somewhere in the castle, hoped that some secret library had survived the ages.

Krueger grimaced as a horrendous noise ripped him from his ruminations. Wearily glancing around, he noticed Gévaudan, the Beast of Parravon, amusing itself with a number of zombies. The Varghulf was pouncing on them one by one and carrying them into a pile only to release them and repeat the process once they’d shambled back to where they were originally working. Kreuger yelled at it and received a look that was at once both sheepish and threatening.

“He’s bored,” offered a sibilant voice to Kreuger’s left, “and he’s not the only one. This digging is getting us nowhere.”

Lisbeth floated over until she came to rest next to him. Always the look of disdain. The Banshee’s features seemed to be in constant flux, as though she couldn’t maintain what form she had left. One moment as beautiful as she had been in life, the next as beautiful as the death currently surrounding him.

“The ancients who rest in these lands are vital to our plans, my dear,” he stated. “We’ll be done here soon and with new forces to further the revenge you desire.”

He pulled his cloak tighter around him and shouted at the zombies moving the stones from the cairns to hurry, forgetting for a moment that they were mere extensions of his will and not actual living workers. Lisbeth narrowed her eyes at him and floated away as Kreuger felt his cheeks burn. Always that damned look.

Ernst Kreuger cursed the cold.