The Rot Walker

Clanking and hissing, surrounded by the stench of rotting flesh, it stalked out of the dust of the Drift....

This was built out of the legs of the Sentinel I had left over from the Green Baron and a shell we picked up on a family holiday to Scotland a couple of years ago. The face was sculpted as was the innards out of sculpy. The rest was constructed of odds and ends.

The painting was all done with a brush, lots of wet blending for a sufficiently organic finish. 

The rigging was set up in such a way as to suggest that the whole thing is being puppeteered by the Nurgling because who doesn't love Nurglings? 

This is another one I am quite happy with. 

The Deacon - Post 300!

Far beneath the ruins there are the remains of a church. Here the broken, the twisted, and the forgotten come to worship. They are called to services by The Deacon. Its wails and the clattering of the bone on wood lets all the dwellers of the Underhollow know that time of the Preacher is come.

This started as a little doodle for AOS28 but it very quickly became apparent it would fit quite easily into the Inq28 setting I've developed.

Construction was very easy; a skeleton torso with zombie arms greenstuffed on (I turned the board so the face pointed out). The head was a Genestealer leftover with the tongue cut out and a new mouth and tongue sculpted. The eyes were also blanked out because I'd just watched Alien Covenant. The lower body was made from greenstuff. Painting was just various glazes over grey.

I also, at the behest of my son, knocked him a Space Marine together out of bits and painted it to his specifications:

The Rogue Trooper

Sweat poured off Laramie's face; the heat from the laval pools was nearly overwhelming.

"Please," he begged, "you're our only hope."

The impassive gas mask  stared back at him. The heavily muscled skin of the man facing him seemed to ripple in the heat.

"You want our help?"

"Yes."

"Then pay us. We don't fight for free."

The Planetary Defence Force of Arcadia fell swiftly after the collapse of the system. While the Imperial Guard troops fought valiantly, most of the PDF fled. However, the modifications made to them by the Genetors upon recruitment made it difficult for them to hide. As the atmosphere of the world was poisoned by the Rift, their skin and muscalutre thickened to adapt; and as the toxins of the Drift blocked out the sun, robbing them of melanin, their bodies produced their own substitue which turned them a ratehr alarming shade of blue. Outcast as cowards and easy to spot, the remaining Genetic Infantrymen of the Arcadian PDF decamped to the Badlands where they hire themselves out as effective fighters for the highest bidder.

The biggest experiment here was the lava base, constructed from cork tile and a bit of paint. A very slight OSL yellow on the legs of the GI helped sell it, I think.

The inspiration for the paint job should be obvious to those of us of a certain age, even if it weren't for the numbers on his Helmet, Bag and Gun. 

For those of you who haven't twigged, he's my own 40k version of

This was the last Inq28 minature on the to paint pile, so I'll next be turning to a slightly different feel. I'd like to see if the tehcniques I've developed working on these will translate to something slightly more traditional...

You Can Run But You Cannot Hide

Gunnar fell against the rocks, hiding against the wind that scoured the scrubland on the edge of the Drift. He wrapped the camocloak around himself, huddling down. His breath rasped painfully. He had been fleeing for three weeks, snatching sleep and food where he could. One more day. One more day and he would reach Rorke's, where he would be safe. No-one broke the Pax there. He squinted his eyes against the wind. 

And slept.

Gunnar Anson was woken less than an hour later by a vast shadow blocking out the burnt orange sky. The smaller of the two figures standing over him clacked it's beaklike mouth rapidly. Was it... laughing? "You can run, human," it said, patting the flank of the vast reptile that accompanied it. "You can run. But you cannot hide."

Drycnath v'Lox, the best Xeno tracker and hunter in the Outer Rim occasionally comes down to the Drift. If the money is right, or the sport is good. His name is whispered everywhere outcasts and fringe people gather. If someone really wants you, the whispers go, they can get you killed easily enough. Life is cheap in the Drift, death even more so. But if someone wants you brought back to stand before them for whatever reason, then they call v'Lox. He will find you. And he will bring you back. Alive. 

This was an idea I had floating around for a while and turned into quite a simple build; the character established itself quite quickly through the build. The biggest difficulty was arranging the position of the two characters on the base to establish their relationship. In the end I put the hunter at the front. 

There's some bits of Eldar, Dryad and genestealer cult in the hunter, and the Hunting Beast is straight conversion of an old Cold One.