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Found 12 results

  1. “You can run, but you’ll only die tired.” “Whom did ye call short-arse?” Here are some Squats I converted and painted some years back. The armoured ones are Mantic Forgefathers with helmet faces in particular resculpted. Note double skull kill markings on the marksman’s helmet. “I’ll cut ye down to proper size, tally!” Badoom! Broadbeard, a loudmouth one-Dwarf illegal radio station sending live from his heists and battles. My character in a Kill Team-RPG campaign. More here: WIP “Need a light?” Beep…! Beep…! This terrain piece’s name goes along the lines of “Mining operations network (MON) Omnibeacon” and I’ll explain my thoughts about it once it’s finally painted and photographed with something better than my backwards cellphone. It is entirely built out of plastic caps, plasticard, some “pins” of various shaped, small nails, super glue and a little greenstuff. It was a Christmas scratchbuild. Of course, like an iceberg it’s supposed to be 9/10 under ground, since it’s a Space Dwarf construction. Art “The stronghold oldsters back at home might not have approved, but around these parts there aren’t any stronghold or oldsters. Or home, for that matter. Chap, in the Biker ‘guilds’ you’ll be your own man, with your own ride far away from safety and responsibilities. Us outriders have our own customs, so thus you’ll have me with this spiky, radical beard style, see? At least I didn’t tint it teal.” “Life is a trampler. I like to keep a rug of a beard around to better receive life as it is in the hallway.” "Pal, come now. Really? If you think I look weird now you should’ve seen me before the flamethrower accident." And finally a drawing: Squat Power Boarder A mercenary prone to casual violence, Trough Mac Broigum has served the psychopathic Rogue Trader Tyrel “Destroyer” Cathek for over seven decades of ceaseless voyages between distant stars. As his master has cut a bloody swathe through long-lost Human colonies and Xeno worlds alike, so has the abhuman Trough served Cathek with savage glee. Trough Mac Broigum has participated in more xenocides and extermination campaigns than most senior Inquisitors can lay claim to, and he has often been at the forefront of the burning and slaughter. Trough leads an sabotage squad of Squat clansmen who have mastered the difficult vehicle known as the power board, a self-propelled ride capable of great leaps and even some limited flight. The Squat power boarders are experts at striking through backstreets and narrow alleys after heavier units have opened a breach, rushing through urban mazes and space station corridors to deliver a lethal cargo of demolition charges, incendiaries, gas canisters, neurotoxins or virus bombs to soft strategic locations (such as waterworks or aeroprocessors) in the midst of population centers. Trough and his ilk will celebrate every triumph of mass civilian extermination with strong beverages, and will constantly retell their most daring feats of martial power board acrobatics in the face of enemy resistance. [centre]_____________________[/centre] Drawn for Oldhammer Art Contest II. Usually I base my doodles loosely on official sources at best (these fictive worlds are always best for freewheeling exploration and imagination of one’s own), but this one was different. The Squat Power Boarder is a reference to three things from Book of the Astronomican: The tabards of Rogue Trader troopers, the signum of Tyrel “Destroyer” Cathek, and the power board of Stugen Deathwalker. “Kickee Cool” on the boots was a nonsense catch-phrase which I used for a Shadowrun Dwarf kickboxer during a short RPG session. I know nothing about Shadowrun, but I made said dwarf (with neon hair & beard implants, constantly shifting glowing colours) with the wacky spirit of Rogue Trader 40k in mind. Squattish Grav-Jack Grav-jacks are gravity repulsor units fitted to landbound vehicles, treasured and rare through the Imperium of Man, yet commonplace among the Kin of Squats. A halfway house between a skimmer and a groundbound tank, a heavy vehicle equipped with grav-jacks may fire up the anti-gravitic engines to lessen ground pressure. A light thrust may prove sufficient for the vehicle to escape becoming mired in mud, marshes, crystafields and still more alien kinds of treacherous soil. Yet should the vehicle run stuck, a strong thrust will be employed to lift it out of the trapping ground. Grav-jacks have limited energy and will require recharging via the vehicle's batteries between uses, yet grav-jack patterns employed by the Leagues of Votann have been noted to be powerful enough to function as grav-chutes for heavy vehicles during their entire descent through atmosphere, something which is far beyond the wilted abilities of Imperial relic grav-jacks. Grav-jacks are believed to have originally been designed to move freight-containers during the Dark Age of Technology, and a lot more can be found out about them here. The basis for these extensive conversions are the tracks of a resin Ramshackle Gnu armoured transport vehicle. The rest of the behemoth build is yet to be finished. Comments and criticism are as welcome as always. Cheers!
  2. This one was not on the rooster of mine. Yet, because of an unexpected event (need to find a cardbox to ship a sold item on Wallapop), I encountered a small platic bag, full of lead and white metal scrap. Among these scraps, an SCT! By SCT I meant a never assemblied Squat Guild Trike. So, here is my third vow: assemble, paint and base this piece of hobby´s history. I guess it will be enlisted for the Leagues of Votann. The molding is quite detailled and faces are really better than anything in plastics, Only Resins models can get that close. Yet design is worth its 30-35 y.o. Respect of scale is, lets say respectfully, non existing. And the set of plastic arms on the standard sprue are anything but adapted to the model. I will have to recut I guess, just to get at least one hand on the gas throttle... It will not be as dynamic as the genuine illustration, but it can be a nice small project to spend the week-end. It will mainly be dry brushing after all.
  3. "Vengeance for the Homeworlds!" -Battle-cry of the Rymr 1st "The pyre was burning / The Strongholds died. And all along, they said / Help's on the way. But it never came / It never came." -Lament for Rymr Well, my Ultras have reached a point where I'm ready to move on for a while. So I'm working on a new army. Namely, Squats, run as Astra Militarum. These guys have a backstory doc, which you can read here. The Ashimar Nova Guard mentioned in the doc are one - if not the most popular - of the most popular Guard homebrews, and they belong to a friend, Will. His wiki page for them is here. In addition, here's some of his models. Here is the "first of the 1st", Warlord Ivaldi Wootz. Him and his Brethren are Einherjar, from Wargames Atlantic. These are great models, and fit the part well. EDIT: Here's the basecoats on some of the infantry. Originally, they were going to be closer to Nova Guard colors, but I picked up the wrong paint and decided to stick with it, so they're light blue-grey and navy blue now.
  4. It only just hit me earlier that this year will be my 30th in the hobby, so I thought it would be a good time to start a new project (yes another one), instead of just 'starting another army' I thought I should do something different to mark the occasion. After some head scratching and beard chewing I have decided to go back to my roots and do a first edition army log. My aim is to build two forces using the original army lists with some RT era terrain for them to fight over, eventually leading to some old school batreps to mark the completion of the project. For the forces in question I have decided to do something we dont see much of every day... SQUATS!!! and MOAR SQUATS!!! Well technically Squats and Khornate Chaos Squats with a smidgeon of World Eaters thrown in as allies. Eventually Ill add in some Tzeentch Squats and some Legion of the Damned as well (dont worry, they will all be in Mk6 armour for that nostalgic vibe). Decided for the bulk of the forces I will use the Wargames Atlantic Einherjar, heavy weapons teams will use the Wargames Atlantic Grognard weapons with Einherjar crewmembers. World Eaters I already have ready to be painted and the LotD will be using the FW Mk6 kit. All scenery will be made out of any old gubbins and doodads I find laying about the house, as was the way back in the Dark Age of Technology. For the moment I will build the forces to 2000 points to start off with to get the bare minimum needed for legal armies done, then I will start adding in more juicy things. Currently flipping between multiple books trying to work out the armies in advance, I think I can squeeze 2k of Squats out of a full box and 4 additional sprues of Einherjar, an actual army for under £40 pleases me greatly, Ill be ordering a couple of sprues at the weekend to build my Warlord and Hearthguard squad, the spare mini will be the basis of my Khorne Squat Lord...
  5. With GenCon behind us an several confirmed rumors on that deleted rumors list confirmed, I thought it might be fun to discus one of the more far out claims from that list (sorry, don't have the quote): the Squats are coming back. We have nothing beyond that so we don't know if they'll be returning as a full army, a unit for AM, or a Kill Team. What would you like to see? How would you like them to play? Do you think this rumor still deserves a lot of salt? I personally hope that Squat is shorthand for Demiurge. A while ago it seemed like if GW was going to return to space dwarves, it would be as something new and the Demiurge were the likely prospect (sorry, don't have the quote). This was before Squats showed up in Necromunda though. Still I'd like another non-imperial army and would like the T'au auxiliaries to get some love.
  6. So... I want a Stormlord in my Astra Army (Squats) and don't like the standard configuration because it just doesn't look like it could house 40 troops (plus all the gubbins). As a result, I've started to build a Stormlord that harks back to the golden age of Epic. The starting kit is a 1/35th scale Panther that has been widened by 4 CM. The rest (so far) is plasticard. In the beginning: Where the current build stands: The main gun: Blue-tacked on: I have ordered a Baneblade Sponson set and will be converting that into suitable side weapons. I also have a pair of heavy stubbers from a pair of Kastelan robots and plenty of heavy bolters for the hull weapons. I plan to have entrance/exit ramps at the front and back... ... that's about it so far .
  7. One sign of the new Leagues of Votann codex being well-written, may be the better background discussions which arise around it to wrestle with the origins of the Squats in 40k. A core theme of the question marks about the Kin and their beginnings, revolves around free will and slavery. To be clear, the codex itself presents the Kin (called Squats by Imperials and Demiurg by Tau) from their own point of view, revolving around kinship, ancestors and perfectionist work to mine and forge marvels across the stars. The explicit part of the codex contains wondrous vistas of Kin astral mining success in the galactic core, touches on cultural development among ancestors to foster perfectionism, and also delves into crazy themes such as acquisitive Kin showing no regard for others living on planets which they have deemed worthy of strip-mining for mineral wealth; the prior mineral assessments include present infrastructure on the planet, as so much junk to salvage. Yet there are implicit themes in the codex, with quasi-corporate heraldry being a nod to Squat origins, and with a remarkably ordered society bred through centralized cloneskeins. What can be read between the lines present a fascinating part of the mysterious background, a worthwhile discussion of which starts around here in a thread on Dakkadakka. To pick a succinct post by Mad Doc Grotsnik that drills down to the hidden horror hinted at by the Squat background writing: Furthermore, the first prototypes of humans in Mesopotamian mythology were unable to reproduce, and only later did the gods grant them this power. Cloneskein echoes? Now, what do you think? Regardless of stance, the fertile fields of reasonable speculation provided by the background is a sign that this time around, Games Workshop did Squats right. Cheers
  8. From the album: Pictures

    © Artist unknown

  9. Maybe not right now, but please can we have a new section for the Leagues of Votann? Not sure where, as they are not Imperium so probably under Xenos, but I think if it is indeed going to be a full 40K faction as indicated by GW, then it should probably have its own section? Cheers
  10. Foreword: This is probably going to age like milk, but the new(ish) Leagues of Votann faction has caught my imagination, and when the muse hits - well, you know the drill. This is tagged as proto-canon, since we know very little of what the faction is about so I try to limit it to what we do. I hope you find it enjoyable. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A Quick Question. He'd offered the question when he was granted the audience. The Lorekeeper had insisted, his thick white beard kept in place with braid locks. "Only the one question. The mighty Votann of our Kin has a great deal to consider!" Mikal remembered standing before the face, power filling the chamber with electrostatic force, making his own short beard become rigid. The braid locks were not just for show then. He felt the great weight of intellect bear down on him, an impression of engrammic brows heavy with abstract thoughts which did not fit mortal understanding, a remoteness of intellect in the chill presence of the icy blasts released from macro-conductors, cycling the hyper-cool fluid. Even his breath formed ice crystals in the cryptovault, the great bastion of the Votann. He cleared his throat. Mikal... It was just one, quick question. Mikal! "Wha, whu?" Mikal snapped open his eyes, gazing at the stars above a planet he didn't know. He shuffled his body, feeling the plating of his combat suit grind and shift against something behind him. Ah yes. His bike. The bulky hover-machine matched his uniform, rounded plates of hard plasteel and ablative ceramic. It was odd to see it sitting on the ground, resting on the levitators. It wasn't as sleek as the bikes of the Aeldari, but nowhere as brutal as those of Orkish buggies. It was practical, serviceable and importantly, it would function on any of the Hearthworlds, where heavy machines relying on friction would be snared by the hight gravity that produced Kin like he. His boot was knocked again by a solid kick. "Are you with me yet?" The question was different to the one he'd asked, but no less pertinent. he looked up into the round, hairless face of Oda, her long blond hair tumbling out of her collar and over her combat suit. "What time is it?" he pulled the long dustcoat from where it lay over him as a blanket, reaching for the Korthshot, the lightweight, multi-purpose weapon common to the Herrkyn Riders. He checked it over, another machine which would work in any gravity environment. Antiquated by virtue of the Votann Idiosyncrasy, it kept pace with human or alien weapons by virtue of special munitions. He broke it open and checked the six cylinders, each unspent primer winked at him from the rims of the .60 calibre shells. Satisfied, he struggled to his feet, shrugging the long leather jacket over his shoulders like a cloak. Oda ignored his question. "The League of Iron has reported Greenskin activity near Hellfire Pass. Theyn Raldrik wants us to outflank them. "Hearthkyn afraid of getting shot up are they?" he offered a wry smile. "Anything else?" "No Mikal, the answer hasn't come," she smiled at him and retired to her own vehicle, beginning the warm-up process. It was the second anniversary of his request to the Mighty Votann. Plenty of time yet. The varying warble of levitators and aero-turbines lifted the Herrkyn aloft, the throttle almost begging him to release it to cut over the plains ahead as the outriders left the gully providing them with shelter. The tall tufts of grass sheared and spattered him, spilling chlorophate across his face, as he buzzed across, eyes thankfully protected from the acrid wetness by sturdy goggles. The column of smoke from the Ork patrol was as good as a signal flare. Three waggons pelted for the pass, the only gap in the Kurpesh foothills, each vehicle transporting a cantankerous mob of the brutish troops. Mikal opened up the engine of his bike with a throaty roar, angling the levitator discs to kick him into a strange catapulting gait which threatened to pitch the bike over, but the gravity here was nowhere near as punishing as home, so he rammed the machine forward, into the fray. He levelled his Korthshot, over the handlebars, tactical relays aligning the weapon and autosense to compensate for the jink and bob of the bike now the terrain had roughened. He sighted a pugnacious wretch manning the Big Shoota atop the waggon, and boom the noise rolled over and past him, purple-red gore erupting from the neck of the beast, the oversized skull and piggy red eyes locked in a look of wonderment as it bounced over the carapace of Mikal's bike. He heard Oda laughing as she bombed past him, putting a thunderous shot into the engine block of the second wagon, watching a torrent of oil and greasy slime cover the driver. He slewed the vehicle towards Oda, but the Herrkyn was faster, sawing back on her reins and lifting up and over the ramshackle machine. The latter found a ditch, and slammed into the earth with a crunch, spilling brawny Orks everywhere in meaty confetti. Mikal zoomed past, tossing a handful of krak grenades into the bunch. Their howls and bawdy bawling dwindled as the Riders sped on. Between them, Oda and Mikal pulled up to the second vehicle, the female rider angling for a double strike. Mikal closed with the waggon, Oda firing rapidly to cover him and he slung the grapnel, a clang-clunk announcing it had purchase. He heaved back, savagely wrenching the handlebars, and the solid adamantine claw bit hard into the front fender of the wagon, but the vehicle was too heavy and the Ork driver too keen for a shunt, as he laughed and cackled, the shootas and sluggas of the boyz inside now beginning to thump and careen around him, rattling his body with every strike against his combat suit. "Oda!" She gunned in, snagging the line between him and the waggon with a tow hook, and both bikes heaved together, ripping the front axle away from the left side of the clumsy vehicle in a shear of protesting metal. Mikal cut the line, just as it twanged taut, and the whipcrack snapped back at the Ork driver, making him recoil as his vehicle ploughed a rut into the earth before tipping over, almost in slow motion, and beginning a long bounce and tumble as it toppled end over end in a crumpling, mangled mass. A fireball blossomed into the air with the crackle of cooking off munitions. "One to go!" Oda called over the comms line. "No, peel off!" "What?" "Peel, Oda, now!" Sigils of the League of Iron painted green across his visor and a moment later, brilliant yellow and red hornets painted a pattern all over the Ork waggon as the weapons of E-13B, CMC-17 and OCR-13 spoke. Cannon fire, las and plasma weapons cut in, reducing the trukk to molten slag, still grazing along the land as a sloughing bullet, until it crashed harmlessly into the mouth of Hellfire Pass, effectively blocking it. The remaining Ork tumbled out, brawling and shooting, but the Hearthkyn and their Theyn responded, raining death on the bestial foes with their Boltshots. Oda slowed to a crawl, allowing Mikal to catch up. He holstered his gun as they made formation, a sedate promenade describing a wide arc to keep them clear of gunfire. She had her finger to her ear, receiving a comms transmission. "Mikal? The Votann has answered," her blue eyes were wide with awe. "You are called." It meant another trip to the Hearthworld, to get his answer in person, the pilgrimage was traditional. He grinned, meeting her gaze. "Oda...I have a quick question for you..." She revved the throttle and her blonde plait loosed out behind her head in a golden rope. "You'll have to catch me!" He grinned as she whooped and flew away. Some answers were worth waiting for.
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