Miscellaneous Commercial Sculpts

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Finished Dungeon Clutter Sculpts for Zealot Miniatures

It's done, or rather, the first wave is finished. It's possible Zealot might want some more pieces later on, such as sacks, household altar and the like. They told me they were content with the current amount so I stopped when this bunch was completed this evening.

Here is the basis reference picture as it stands, blue stars for sculpted bits:



Last batch of the lot:



Close-ups, including thin landmasses and islands added to the globe as per Zealot Miniatures' request. These will be easy to scrape away:



Impaled Goblin, based on Assyrian reliefs:



Demonic portal:



And all the gang together, 3 months' worth of sculpting:












Elf Archer of Ancient Times



Lower body scalemail finished.

[SpellArcher]

Good work!

Impaled Goblin, based on Assyrian reliefs

They weren't very nice the Assyrians, were they.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@Spellarcher: Thanks. Not particularly nice!

Work goes forward step by step on the monopose archer. All grey stuff areas are unfinished basis:

[Galharen]

Please, don't make him too 2D.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Please, don't make him too 2D.

It's an archer, and an Elf not a fat Dwarf at that. Fully-drawn, regimented, standing archery poses are flat by nature, and I'm an amateur simply playing along those lines here. There's maybe also a bit of silhouette exposure at work here, akin to how pistol duelists tried to stand so as to present themselves as narrow as possible to become a harder target when shot at.

Whenever we get around to make a kneeling variant, the flat impression will be much challenged. However, the wavy cloak and the WIP baggage should take away some from the flatness when fully sculpted and bulked out with details.

Of course, I'll try to keep the Elf thin, not least since my evil dwarf sculpts has so far ended up too big and thick than intended, and since whitemetal casting seems the most probable solution for the monopose archer, material cost per gram will help decide end price for customers, and we do wish to keep it affordable, right?

[Shannar, Sealord]

Firing a bow (or even a rifle) does put you in a rather "2D" stance when done correctly. I've never been to fussed about that anyway. If it looks good I like it. If it doesn't I don't. Sometimes making things a little more dynamic helps, but there are plenty of cases where it's worked the other way as well.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@Shannar, Sealord: Indeed! In this case I hope to let the cloak stand for motion in the miniature, with the archer himself standing rigid.

The undetailed basis for the Elf's back package is finished, and some work has gone into making the sculpt more mould-friendly with less sharp undercuts. However, when sculpting the head I've struck upon a problem, as amateurs are wont to do. With my poor eye-measurement, I simply cannot tell for myself, so I'd appreciate if you could help me out here:

Is the helmeted head too large?

Please keep in mind that if the body seems too thin in comparison, I can either bulk out the torso and limbs some before making their details, or allow those body parts' details to do the bulking-out. (The helmet's details would be done in a more delicate fashion, so as to not enlargen the headgear very much.) Is the head and body fine as is? Need the body be bulked out some? Or should the head be redone from scratch?

Advice is needed.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Taking all feedback from various sites and friends together, roughly half says yay and the other half nay. I hope the below resculpt will make everyone say yay:

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Dungeon Oddities - Dungeon Clutter £3.99 at release.

You can find some odd things in a long-forgotten dungeon! This set expands the range of trinkets and dungeon clutter, bringing more life to your underground stone lair.




Elf Archer Sculpt

Summer has not seen much hobby work, but pace is picking up again on the archer. I hope to finish him already this month if possible.

Helmet, bow and boots remain to be done, and gemstones will be added into empty sockets.

For someone who has always overloaded on details it's fun to sculpt the twirly armour ornaments, yet at places they seem too busy on the miniature compared to the sketch. I've already removed a couple of tiny twirls from the breast area. Should the details at gut level be simplified? Are there other issues and solutions you can spot?



At this stage I'm not entirely sure on the direction, but will press on according to the concept drawing and see where it all ends up in miniature form. Perhaps everything will come together when all the details are in place, or when the first casts have been painted.

And now to share some inspirational sources behind this Elven style (more prominent on the greatsword armour sketch), parts of which comes from a few of the better Silmarillion Elf hits when browsing through Google and Deviant Art, by various artists:







Other sources are Greek and Roman designs in general, the usual suspects such as Corinthian helmets and Roman Galea helmets, which has informed lots of Elven designs though the years:







As well as Assyrian archers and Syrian Auxilliary archers in the Roman army with their pointy helmets and the former's half-rounded runic bottom:





Yet most of it is fantasy, and doesn't stay very close to any particular historical style in the case of these Elves.

[SpellArcher]

I feel the Archer is very promising. For me, the helmet details and crest from the sketch should be very effective.

The bow is good, on it's own terms. I just wonder about use for game systems (like 8th edition) where Longbows are a default.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@SpellArcher: Thanks! Fingers crossed it all works out.

Well, obviously you didn't expect Elven bows that are the equivalent of puny Human longbows to actually be longbows, did you? We'd need 36" S4 for actual Elven longbows.

Helmet might be done now bar forehead gem. Simplified the ornaments in an attempt at elegance. However, as per feedback on the 9th Age forum and from my brother the archer received this longer crest. I would've preferred the smaller crest for a common footsoldier, but what the heck. Does it all work out? Anything to change and improve?

[EagleOfTheForestPath]

...Anything to change and improve?

This is very nice! It's just... the head seems slightly off-center to me. Might be a perspective thing, though.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@EaglesOfTheForestPath: Thank you! It's a persepctive thing as far as I can tell, at the risk of being completely wrong.

Elf Archer Sculpt

It ended up no less than in the 32mm scale (akin to Avatars of War), but it's not something that bothers me personally since I've always kept close to some of Tolkien's descriptions of Elves as taller than Humans. That way, Dwarfs seem even shorter and grumpier, which can only be for the good.

It's finished. Or? Last chance to come with feedback to change things!



Next up will be some dungeon mimics for Zealot Miniatures, and simultaneously one or two Elf bitz kits that I promised my brother. When those are done there'll be a special curly beard project again, which I hope you'll like.

[Shannar, Sealord]

I'd prefer shorter (I'm one of those grumpy people who've been complaining about size creep since the late 80s), but dang it looks nice.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@Shannar, Sealord: Thanks! Scale, size, angles, straight lines, proportions and symmetry are weaknesses of mine. Particularly scale. Otherwise it would have ended up more on the level.

Ah well, it's probably to do with the same requirements for becoming an 18th century grenadier. Be taller than the rest...


I'm looking for a good painter willing to volunteer and paint a kit of freebie monopose archers as soon as the first production casts are finished.​ To a good standard and quite quickly upon receiving the freebie. See thread for details. The painter gets a freebie kit for his collection, I get photos of his finished archers for display purposes, because bare metal or plastic/resin grey miniatures are not a very interesting way of presenting your wares.

Are you interested?

[Doctor]

Looks nice, I like the details (though the pictures are rather low res)

[Andrew_uk]

I'd be willing to do it. I'm not an outstanding painter but I do acheive a (slightly better than) tabletop standard. If I took 3 days off work then that would be enough I think to turn this around. I could take pictures at my local Wargames club, the scenery there is amazing!!

Honestly, there's better painters out there than me, there's faster painters out there than me, there's better photographers out there than me. But I'm not bad at these 3 areas either :p

[Karak Norn Clansman]

@Doctor: Thanks! Yes, I'm afraid you're right.

@Andrew_uk: Thanks for the offer! It was much appreciated.


Elf Heavy Archers of Ancient Times




Painted by Cultofkhaine.

___________________________________________________

Elf Heavy Archers are now released! Thanks for your good input, folks.

_____________________________________

In ancient times, the Elven composite bow held sway over vast tracts of land and struck fear and silvern steel into the heart of Orcs and Menfolk. Its reach was long and strong, and the shafts of its arrows marked the end of warbands, armies, cities and tribes alike. It was likened unto lightning, for it was death upon steppe and highlands; plains and mountains; swamps and deserts; forests and seas alike. This ranged weapon was the favourite tool of death for the multitude of Elven tribes, realms and city-states which dominated such vast regions. By composite bow and spear and blade did the dreaded Elves crush any resistance from lesser races underheel within their bloodied spheres of influence, and wherever their cohorts and legions marched, mortals trembled and turned to their gods in fear.

In ancient times, death came all too often at the sharp steel end of an Elven arrow, and often the victims had little clue as to why they must die, for the needs and wants, desires and reasons for action of the haughty elder tribes remained locked behind arrogance and veils of mystery. The true secrets of the Elven composite bows' manufacture remained likewise ever locked within Elven minds and appears to have never truly spread unto other races except for in heroic legends. The composite bows of the Elves were fabled not only for their sheer power and rumoured enchantments, for they were known far and wide for their intricate and demanding making, which went to excesses that corresponding Human bowyers would never dare imagine. Whatever magic and munande craftskills went into the creation of these deadly weapons, the results were composite bows and strings able to withstand wet and cold and salt without slacking, which enabled Elven archers to roam in any clime, at any altitude, without their shots weakening. Thus were laid the foundations of carnage without end nor limit.

In ancient times, mortals lived violent lives filled with hardships and trials, and the landscapes of the world were awash in blood and feuding. Yet for all the savagery of the nomadic hordes and barbaric settled peoples, few calamities were as feared as the wars of Elven tribes, whether against each other or against lesser races. Raids and invasions alike saw the deaths of Men, Orcs, Goblins and many more races. None were spared this terror. In great numbers did nomads and savages drop dead under the hail of Elven arrows. Great and terrible wars were fought between Elves and Dwarfs, as the strongest civilizations beneath the skies grasped for vengeance, power and territory. Uncounted masses of younger mortals, enslaved or free, were constantly caught up in the maelstrom of conflict, and the bones of the perished ones littered the ground from sea to sea, arrows protruding from skulls and ribcages. For this was an age of empires, and their wars ravaged the world as greatly as their monuments and achievements soared.

And in the midst of this swirling chaos, the power of the bow endured for millennia.

Elven archery came in many forms whether with worldly or otherworldly arrows, whether magically touched or poisoned or flaming, or merely a rain of silvern arrowheads glinting deadly in the light cast by sun, moon or torches as it fell upon the foe. Elven archery came in the form of ambushes, and it came in the form of assassinations. Likewise Elven archery came in the form of sharpshooters clearing the skies or battlements of besieged walls, and it came in the form of mounted bowmen terrorizing the steppe lands and beyond. Yet most iconic of all the shapes it took in ancient times were the disciplined bowline, with ranks upon ranks of heavily armoured Elven composite archers standing tall in rigid lines born out of endless drills, drawing, nocking and loosing their arrows as if all the hundreds of bowmen were one and the same being. Along with the lockstep advance of Elven phalanxes, they were the very image of order on the battlefield, and their regimented display alone awed foes and unnerved lesser mortals to whom such firmness and exactitude were otherworldly in the midst of carnage. The bewildering manoeuvers and feats of shooting pulled off by such line companies of Elven archers were the stuff of sagas and fear among the feral tribes of many races, and even the tough Dwarfs acknowledged their value as warriors, however grudgingly.

These were ages of fire and bloodshed, of primal fear, ruthless greed and titanic ambitions. The hunger for power was fed at the point of blades and arrows, and great deeds of glory and infamy alike lived on in legend long after all characters involved had turned to ash and dust. One of the Elf archer companies which won eternal fame were prince Draecarion's Longbows, who pioneered the next level ranged weapon of Elven armies and reaped bloody and fantastic achievements upon the battlefield, including shooting the black dragon Maeranichas clear from the sky at Ivory Rock; out-shooting the malignant Dwarf handgunners at Hierlan Ford; and massacring the elite human foot soldiers of emperor Mignusian III's Jackal Guard despite their closed ranks of tower shields and fine heavy armour. Some heavy Elven archers who knew renown were mercenaries, like the Teal Cloaks of Jaendrath Bloodeye, the Swan Feathers or the Hundred For Hire of disinherited prince Maelgor, famous for singlehandedly suppressing the legions of defenders upon the great city walls of Toraxaslan with a withering shower of arrows, which allowed swordsmen to climb the walls by ladder, virtually unchallenged during their long and perilous ascent. Other Elven heavy archers of note were uncannily accurate and could shoot into the eyes of quick and nimble small birds in the sky, such as the Goldbow company were known to do, or hunting schools of flying fish across the wavy sea's surface in the manner of the Kraken Patrol of the island city-state of Finalgon.

Whatever their feats and glory in war, Elven archery skills by far surpassed those of Dwarfs and Men and Goblins, and the ease with which the Elves handled their silvern bows seemed to deny the inacurracy inherent in such weapons. Massed Elven archery backed by ballistae, sorcery, hunting eagles and javelins were likened unto a symphony of death from afar, yet one need not look to such sophisticated musical pieces to glimpse the capabilities of Elf archers, nor to face the scorn with which they viewed the prey of their arrows:

"Out on field of fair Roenalloth,
a foul horde roamed in stink and sloth,
fed old on bark and young on broth,
red lice in hair, kilts torn by moth,
out-hollowed cheeks and rabid froth,
black pelts of rats sewn into cloth,
these filthy Men met Elves in wroth.

A princeling son of Mannish chief,
came forth an' 'splayed muscles like beef,
in gurgled tongue he blamed Elves thief,
for stealing his kin's coast and reef,
wishing back his tribe's lost fief,
and kept with body his speech brief,
showed his arse, not worn a leaf,
so we shot him there to father's grief.

Sent Menfolk Ogre, their hardest hitter,
yet Elves stood fast in ranks aglitter,
drew strings taut to skylarks' twitter,
aim notched sharp while Men askitter,
ahooting 'long their foul maids' titter,
Ogre roared scum Elf throatslitter,
then arrows sang toward fat critter,
impaled in rain to death so bitter.

Then Elven bows turned upward still,
and voice of Men fell mute, lack-will,
the Elves drew strings as one by drill,
the hearts of Menfolk gripped by chill,
thoughts all turned from ale and swill,
our arrow's feathers not for quill,
their silvern points now blood to spill,
archers sensing huntsman's thrill,
red banelust thirsting for its fill,
as Seaking's greyhawk yelled out shrill,
we loosed the arrows for the kill.

The mortal Men their death did sign,
when arrowproof they thought 'selves fine,
for each Elf on field the Men were nine,
wished to in tent of Seaking dine,
a plan to hang Elf-heads in pine,
yet arrows fell, Man-whelps did whine,
bravehearts fleeing, losing spine,
us Elves stood fast in firing line,
slaughtered Menfolk raw like swine,
and Mannish blood ran red like wine.

Cheers!"

- Alguin wine drinking song

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Alien Heads of Distant Times




Out now!

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The infamous stock-market shark was alerted by the approach of the bounty hunter within his cavernous office room, first by various sensor alerts, then by his own ears, which had been artificially grown in vats after that filthy whore bit them off with two nasty bites.

   He tapped a tiny touchplate on his armrest, and slowly his large padded chair swivelled around to greet the newcomer. It wasn't a pretty sight which lay back in the chair. Extensive synthetic skinplants and cosmetic operations had been carried out to make an old human appear as a young virile stud of man. It had looked genuine the first decade, but since then decay had caught up, and no amount of continuous treatment could any longer mask the faked impression of the skinplants and artificial hair mane.

   This pretension at style was exquisitely draped. Expensively clothed, but not clothed with style. The entire appearance of the mogul radiated a garish lack of taste. The old money laughed behind his back, and his lack of sophistication and culture made him the open ridicule of high society. Yet the Shark lacked the insight to catch any of this, and did not even understand that he was the one being scoffed and mocked in a thousand and one subtle ways. The loud-mouthed center of cocktail parties and skyglide cruises alike, he was more at home in his office making money with grubby sods than in the feasting places of the ruling elite. And he was more at home in brothels, vapour nests and drinking dens than anywhere else. This time, he received guests clothed, at least, so no one should complain.

   That wealthy wretch of a man drew a long pull off his smogstick, and took great pleasure in activating the facial microcanals that allowed the lilac smoke to be puffed out of his ears.”Well?” he bayed with an arrogant tone which he himself had never been aware of, but which all in his surroundings were at pains to endure.

   The long trenchcoat whirled as the the tall bounty hunter snapped to attention. Ceramic-clad highboots clanked together, pistol holsters moved and a long sniper rifle swayed on his back as he pulled off a mock salute under his broad-brimmed leather hat.

   “Goods. Delivery. As requested,” he growled in a soft, threatening manner which had made the bounty hunter the amorous attraction of girls across seven sectors, and the object of husbandly hatred across just as many.

“Well, which one?” barked the stock-market shark impatiently. He had ordered a whole string of expensive heads served on a plate, and was not used to his underlings being so shy with words. It would take years to hunt down all his rivals, defectors and one-time business anchors in alien societies. So, which one of them was it that the bounty hunter had come to deliver?

   The tall whip of a man stood theatrically still for several moments, building tension and making his client's forehead throb with angry impatience. It had been several seconds already! Then, the bounty hunter opened his spacious trenchcoat and presented his goods hanging from hooks on the inside of the cardio-ferratic fake leather fabric. There were all seven of them.

“Take your pick.”

[Karak Norn Clansman]

These excess bits and bobs will be off to casting, just because. Two different kits, or maybe three. The round marker is the skeletal corpse remains of a decaying Goblin. Old sculpt indeed, but it was requested to be cast on The One Ring:

[Prince of Spires]

These excess bits and bobs will be off to casting, just because.

A great reason for casting them

I always find that the real character of a battlefield (or anything else really) doesn't so much come from the big pieces. But it's really in the small details. They take a scene from "looks nice" to "wow that looks great". Which makes these small items very useful to have.

Rod

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Indeed! Undeniably true.


Pop quiz!

What will these wire skeletons be?

[Prince of Spires]

I'm guessing you want something a bit more specific then "bodies"...

I'll go for goblins.

[Shannar, Sealord]

Hobgoblins.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Good guesses! But they're wrong. Try again.

As you can see over here, the new Rotten Circus brings with it something of possible interest to evil Dwarf collectors. Available through Kickstarter, and later also through Rotten Factory's webstore. Sculpted by me on the fly, as it were:



Reference:

[SpellArcher]

Deep into Scary Clown territory and out the other side.

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Honk honk!


This dungeon clutter is out now:








__________________________


Dust whirled in the stale air as footsteps rang down the winding cave tunnels. Tap. Tap. Tap. They were careful steps, yet fired with a haste born out of panic and despair. Pale mice and blind lizards scuttled away under rocks and hid in crags as the heavy darkness that had been their entire world flared up with a ruddy light. Torches crackled and sizzled, several of them bobbing their way forward in a row. The moving torchlight gasped and cast pivoting shadows from stalactites and stalagmites alike, painting the dripping cavern walls with shifting shadows like a mouth full of fangs... or prison bars.

They could not get out. Treading the way back home had revealed an exit collapsed by a massive rockfall, or perhaps felled by sabotage. They could not tell which ill stalked them; misfortune or malevolence. The former was enough to doom them. The latter haunted their every waking moment and rendered their dreams into nightmares. But if someone truly was stalking them and setting them up, they had not caught a glimpse of the would-be murderer.

Murder...

As if slaying that Cockatrice had been a misdeed! As if snapping the necks of its young brood had been a mistake! As if ending the suffering of its sick yet roosting mate had been a crime! As if taking their precious eggs had been a sin!

Murder...

No more would those sharp avian eyes turn men and beasts to stone. No more! They had done the right thing, and entered the jaws of hell undauntingly. They had packed up and wandered the subterranean maze for what must have been days, and they had dared death a dozen times over only to get to the monster. And then they had entered the lair, like true heroes, and their leader's silvern shield had shone brilliantly in the orange torchlight as he swung his sword and hacked the foul devil down! Such glory they had reaped! Such glory...

Murder....

The brave adventurers had packed up well with torches and rags soaked in olive oil, and for this sake their flaming light would outlast their water. And their food. And their sanity. The jaws of hell had closed around them.

Already their supplies had been wolfed down, and already they had cracked open the beheaded trophy's skull to devour its brain and facial muscles. And worst of all, they could not even retrace their steps back to the Cockatrice lair where decaying corpses still lay strewn on the rocky floor. They could not find it again, no matter how hard they tried. They could have sworn the caverns had changed course. And they would soon fight each other for mortal flesh unless some sustenance could be found, for intact Cockatrice eggs could buy you a fief.

They could see it in each others' eyes. They could see it clearly. Their greed would outlast their honour and comradeship. Tense silence reigned in their once so jovial company, and they watched each other from out of the corners of their eyes, as if searching for the gleam of the dagger about to strike from behind.

Suddenly, the lead adventurer shouted out for the first time in hours, or maybe days. She had found vessels! Pots and sacks, baskets and flasks. A stash of supplies! Someone's hidden store. Just like that, they were all saved from hunger. Laughter bubbled up out of parched throats, and their hands clapped each other's backs. That dreaded starvation would not get them, oh no! With so many pounds of grain and wine they would refresh their steps and find a way out, even if it took weeks more. Such branching caverns surely could not have only one exit.

"At it, lads! Raid the pantry!" the forward scout cheered, and they rushed to her side, opening lids and pulling out corks. A few signs of mice, and smaller critters still, were evident, but no major plague of vermin. The foodstuff smelled fresh enough. Some estate-owner or farming clan would lose their winter reserves, but luck was tough and so were they. They would not let this chance pass!

And so the intrepid adventurers guzzled down unwatered wine and chewed wheat biscuits and raw grain to sate their worst hunger pangs, looking at each other with joy and refound hope in their eyes. The gods willed it! They would not starve!

Nay, they would not starve. Some filled sacks and bags with foodstuff, and refilled empty bottles in their backpacks. One started crushing grain with pestle and mortar to mix with wine and herbs. Others continued the simple feast, until their grasping hands reached the false wooden bottoms that lay rather deep beneath the top layer of grain in the baskets and sacks. Bewildered, they dug up the wooden lids, and found salted meat beneath. No, not meat. Flesh. There were still fingers and ears left in the salty red mass. Someone's dead eye stared back at them.

Gasps and and the sound of vomiting echoed in the low cavern. It was then that they discovered the corpse. A dessicated cadaver from some run-away Goblin slave. Strange to find him dead here, so close to the food store... Stray grain was still visible around the corpse. And why would some farmer dare to store his supplies in a Cockatrice cave? They stared at the dried-out husk of the Goblin corpse.

First then did the pain and convulsions begin. Their visions swam, and they toppled on weak knees, growling about poison. Groaning and cries whimpered away as throats swelled and lungs heaved for less and less air. Fingers clawed desperately on wet rock, and bodies flung themselves frantically about on the hard cavern floor, flailing in animal terror and agony.

And first then did they receive an answer to the question that had been gnawing at the back of their minds for so long:

Yes. It was not misfortune, but malice.

For someone was out to get them.

[SpellArcher]

Love the little amphorae!

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Thanks! Fun to make.

A friend of mine, who is known as Deviatecod online, have a neighbour and friend who is into Warhammer 40'000. Recently, this 40k collector and another mate of his got the idea to have his Ork Stompa turned into a Freebooter Pirate Stompa. Consequently, Deviatecod cooked up a lot of detail ideas for this concept and got in contact with me. The ideas were really fun, so I accepted the commission even if the fee stretched out on work hours was something like €1 per hour. Most of the Stompa head ideas are his, although I came up with the pipe, the ear ring, the headcloth and the feather (a stylized Imperial Aquila statue wing broken off for looted duty). The eyepatch of ammunition bands and a Terminator sole was a joint idea. This was fun, though the detail level is lacking (e.g. no rivets in sight) since it was a rushjob. The beard will have to be bowed into place by the client.

Yarr!





Here is a scale shot with an ordinary Count Orkula:

[Karak Norn Clansman]

Kamorko & Grufol

I'm happy to share this creation from early January with you, made for Veil of the Ages. He's called Kamorko, with his reloader sidekick Grufol the Goblin:









And painted by a professional:


Kamorko and his Goblin reloader Grufol
"Kamorko, you are crazy! That palace is full of elven guards!"
Sculpt: Admiralty Miniatures Paint: Andrea Febo, Terrain: Mauro Cangemi



Check out Veil of the Ages: The Breach! A great entry point for new hobbyists and wargamers. Please consider supporting the Kickstarter. We all want to have new opponents in the future, right?