Another month whipped by and the cobwebs are needing to be blown off again! As always, I've been busy, mostly melting under this heat we're "enjoying", but managing to get some paint applied when it's not drying on the brush before I can use it!
Today's post was planned to be about my orks, but sitting at the painting table yesterday, I spied something at the back, looking at me accusingly, unfinished and unloved for months...
I've always loved the old citadel chaos steeds, and have managed to collect four over the years,but I've never been overly enamoured with the knights that sit on them. They're nice and all, but I think they're not impressive enough to be on those magnificent horses,especially compared to the warriors on foot. A few years ago, I first saw Nicos magnificent
chaos knights. That was the seed planted,and the hunt was on for the steeds. A while later, Whiskey over at The Leadpile converted a fantastic leader for his chaos marauder warband, which you can see
here, got the seed sprouting. I actually ended up using the same marauder for my conversion, because I loved the pose of it on the horse.
So, the steed and donor model were put on the table, and then promptly ignored in favour of something else. Along came my good mate Ned with the final nail in the
coffin. That was it, the model was finally happening!
So after chopping, trimming, press molding and calling the model a prick on more than one occasion, I was left with a piece that was almost there, but it needed a head. Not just any head, but a head that only a warrior of chaos could have, something impractical but dangerous(ish) looking, something to make him stand out. And yet again the project foundered as I lost my patience looking.
And then, I remembered Airbornegroves homage to
Tim Prow. Of course he should have an animal head, because Chaos. An old Judge Dredd Klegg was duly hunted and decapitated before I spent a leisurely time slapping the model about with the auld hairy stick. I was quite chuffed with the results, and showed the rest of the Combat Burgers, who duly pointed out that the steeds tail looked like trouble, and so was born the back story........
The hero of the Gods held his position along with his warband in the gorge, awaiting their prey. His reptilian eyes blinked slowly as he lost himself in increasingly faint memories, Lord Clarence Boddicker, scourge of the bandits that infested the forests of Ostermark. He dimly remembered the honours heaped upon him by the small folk, and the songs sung in his praise in taverns across the province.
He also remembered the priest that had arrived with his witch hunters, and recalled with unusual clarity the bite of his axe through the priests chest after he found the burnt carcass of his wi- " Claaaareeence, come on, let's get the bastards!!"
Lord Boddicker swung his arm backwards with a savage growl, feeling his blow connect with a crack of iron on bone. "You absolute shit! You're here to do a job you scaly prick, get on with it!!"
Not for the first time, Lord Boddicker closed his eyes and expelled a long low breath, trying to calm himself. His career in service of the gods had been a steady rise until he'd killed that sorcerer. He'd snapped the tzeentch creatures spine like a twig, and left his faithful steed, grown massive on a diet of meat and blood to feed on the carcass. He'd awoken the next morning to find a thick, plated tail sprouting from its rump, a dripping maw at the end screaming obscenities at him. He'd crushed it almost immediately but it grew back within hours, and had done in the uncountable times he'd done it since. He'd even killed the horse once, although it galled him to do so, but he was driven to it by that damned tail shrieking with laughter at the reptilian horror his head had become. He'd torn the horses throat out in one massive bite, but the next morning he was woken by that bastard mouth shrieking at him again.
" snap out of it you bastard, they're nearly here, and I'm huuuunnngryyyyy!"
God's damn that creature, he'd been distracted to the point that he'd almost missed his chance! He directed his warband with short curt gestures, as impressive as his crocodilian head was in battle, it made normal speech nearly impossible. They moved quietly into position as the patrol got closer, and Boddicker unstrapped his shield, ready to sow carnage amongs- "CHAAAAAARGE!!! KILL THEM AAAAALLL"
Boddicker roared in frustration as that accursed mouth ruined yet another ambush. Nothing for it now but to reap a harvest and count the cost in the aftermath. He was going to kill that fucking tail once this was done. Again.
Thanks for reading that wall of text folks, see you at some other time with some other project!
