Liebster Awards!

I just found out a few days ago I was given a Liebster Award. I really want to thank Green Stuff Industries for listing me as a recipient and recommending my blog to others in the community. 

We have had a meager 6k hits in the year and a half that I have been writing. Though I can't believe it is that many.

So here's the deal with the Liebster Awards.

1. Copy and paste the award on your blog linking it to the blogger who has given it you.
2. Pass the award to your top 5 blogs with less than 200 followers by leaving a comment on one of their posts to notify them that they have won the award and listing them on your own blog.
3. Sit back and bask in the warm fuzzy feeling that comes with knowing you have made someone's day!
4. There is no obligation to pass this onto someone else but it is nice if you take the time to do so.

Ok, the 5 blogs under 200 followers is:

1. Berks gaming Club

2. Turn-8 podcast (they may have more than 200, but not according to the forums)

3. Green Stuff Industries

4. There is only war

5. Rusty Robot

Now for the questions:

 

1. Why did you start blogging? I started to write mostly because I thought no was listening, and I had stuff to           say. 

2. If you could change one thing about the wargaming hobby, what would it be? I would love to make it more approachable and understandable to people outside of the community

3. What is best in life? Children, from their complete innocence to their lack of oral filters

4. Do you want to live forever? No, I would like to live long enough to see my boys find the happiness in their lives, then die quietly in my sleep

5. Fame or fortune? Fortune, I don't need people watching in my windows to see what I am wearing today

6.What miniature are you most proud you have painted? That's easy.... All of them.

7. How do you deal with burn out? Play games and write army lists. Aside from that, I take short breaks when needed

8. Why is a raven like a writing desk? I dunno

9. Star Wars or Star Trek? Star Wars, all the way. I just don't get Star Trek.

10.If you could only buy from one miniature company from now on, who would it be? I would have to say GW but there are so many beautiful models out there. I would hate to ever make that decision.

11. Favorite Take out? It would have to be pizza. 

Thanks again to Green Stuff Industries. It means a lot to me that I made your list. Good luck to you.

Catching the scent

        Among the sensors, dials and readouts on the instrument panel, nothing ever changes. Jovald sits and waits for something, anything to happen. What wonderful pride he had when he was selected to be part of the crew of the Valdr Kappi. His life before being recruited was hard. He was a mortal born on a super human world. His family were miners. His father and his father before him and his father before him were all miners. He could not live and work below the mountains of Fenris. He needed to be with the stars. He wanted to be a Space Wolf. Unfortunately, he was not much of a fighter, let alone, not athletic in the least. So when the opportunity to be part of the Space Wolf's imperial navy, he jumped at the chance. So now here Jovald sits. Ten hour shifts of waiting for something to happen wears thin on the exultation he had when he first signed up. "Something is happening, " he says to himself as three Astares open the door to the bridge and confront the captain. Though the Valdr Kappi is part of Ragnar Blackmane's entourage, there is never space marines on this ship. This is a sensor ship. There isn't even enough guns on this ship to defend against a single ork boy.
      Jovald can't remember the last time he had even seen one the defenders of Fenris. Now, there were three, only five feet from where he sat. There is no need to eavesdrop. The gray armored warriors are clearly upset over the recent events. Suddenly, one of the Space Wolves, Ormgar claps the leader of the group and points in the direction of Jovald. Jovald quickly turns back to his screen and notices an unusual blip on his screen.
    "What is that?" Ormgar asks the mortal.
    "It's a signal from Avignor. It looks like a f-f-fortress has been opened." Jovald stammers.
    "Captain, we need to go there." says the hairiest and eldest of the three.
    " Only the Lord can tell me where to go," barks the captain at the 8 foot tall super soldier.
     Romund looks down at the captain of the ship like a father looks down at a three year who just talked back to them, "I am trying to save your position, Captain! Blackmane will want to go there. He closed that door himself!"
       The captain, with a stark look on his face, orders plainly. " Contact Wolf Lord Blackmane. Plot our  course to Avignor. And get the Admiral on the vox."

Need more painted models!

    A thought came to me just yesterday. There has been a serious lack of painted models on this page. I have been working an a number of projects lately. Unfortunately, I don't remember specifically which models I finished so I figured I would put pics of the ones I mentioned on here. First one will be the too tall farseer.

 I always loved this model and I can't figure out why I never painted him. Finally, I have a second farseer finished for my army. Hmm. Just a thought. Maybe I should start working on my troops before I paint any more characters. Well, before I get to painting troops, I should probably finish these tanks that I start. I sat down and had a big air brushing night. It was a serious boost to my painting morale. There is a serious lack of hours in a day for everything I would like to do.

The final one I wanted to put up here is my favorite anti hero, Cypher. Another models that I have own for so long I hate to admit it, He is painted and ready for the battlefield. The inclusion of new rules for this miniature was wonderful incentive. The plan for the near future is to finish these two tanks. When they are done, I will move on to guardians, dire avengers, and warp spiders. 

Oh! By the way, the story I have been writing is the prologue to a narrative campaign that we are playing in. Stay tuned for what happens next. Thanks for following and please leave comments. I would love to here from you.

The story so far....

    The noise of battle wakens me. The deafening sound of bolter fire pierces my skull. My head aches with every blast. I am slow to rise. The dream is still alive in my thoughts. The crossroads..... Which path did I choose? Who am I leading away from the darkness? My head is still swimming with recollections from the dream. Then, the realization... "Where am I?" The words come back to my ears almost as someone else said them. The room is quaint. A bed, chest of drawers and a small chair are the only contents. Nothing adorns the walls. The bed shifts slightly as I climb out and onto my feet. At this point I realize the shots heard outside my door are real. I quickly gather my belongings and head out into the hallway.
    The corridor is bustling with activity. The movements in the hallway are almost orchestrated. There is a pattern in the seemingly chaotic surroundings around me. Military personnel  hurrying to their designated positions. One of the soldiers stop before and states what seems to be obvious and yet so much more confusing to my current state. "They are here to take it back."
       "Take what back?" is the only response I can muster.
     The soldier states " the relic."
      That simple response brings light to everything that happened  since the crossroads. The dream. Or was it a dream. I walked the road from the crossing. It led again into the woods. The whole time, I am being followed. Ghosts walk with me on this path. These are not spirits of the dead to bring dread into my soul. These are the shadows of events past and some of yet to come. I turn to see some which reflect friends who have gone from my life, only to look on others to see people I have not met yet. There is one that haunts me more than the others, the alien. The one who sees through everything. The one that seemingly guides my steps.
    The ancient diviner speaks to me yet again. He tells me of a place down the path, an ancient stronghold of my people. It has been since taken over by others like me and abandon as my people have a century ago. The specter suddenly race ahead of where I am to make a new path off the road. It is no bigger than an animal trail and probably not even used by anything larger than a wolf. I cut my way through the brush for what seems to be hours.
     Then as the undergrowth starts to clear. I can see an angel in the distance. It is huge, three stories tall, on the side an immense fortification. I want to see more, but I am stopped by the spirit of the seer. "If you enter, you my find who you seek, but you will draw the wolves to your doorstep."
     "Who am I looking for?" I ask. I know the answer, but I need the confirmation.
     "He who is the the greatest hope... or the greatest threat, the bearer of the sword. I fear to speak the name lest he manifest here to slay me."
       "If that is true, I must go in." I state as I brush through the spirit. I need to find the entrance.
     "When those doors are opened, they cannot be resealed. You will bring the wolves down upon us all!" the spectral voice now coming from inside my mind warns.
       "Then so be it! What can a mere wolf do to the likes of me!" The determination rises in my very soul. "I will not be swayed from this course. If I find him it will change everything." With all the strength from the very pit of my soul, I open the door to the fortress. The lights flicker on as the building comes to life. Before I close the the door behind me, I look out into the countryside. The spirits are all gone. The only break in the stillness of twilight is the baying of a single wolf at the newly risen moon. "Let the wolves come! This is my home now!"
            SLAM!!

       

What up, Shorty!

 


     Happy Friday evening! First off, I want to wish good luck and good games to everyone playing at Adepticon this weekend. It doesn't matter what game you play, I hope the dice gods bless every roll. For those who have already won, Congratulations! For those who didn't, don't forget to register for next year.
Ok. Enough about a convention that I am no where near.

         Then, I see on the GW website that the Codex: Astra Militarium is on preorder along with a Hydra tank variant. That made me think of something. There are a number of conversions that I wanted to post on here. My hydra, which is actually an easy make with the right bits. Though I must admit, I wasn't prepared for this when I sat down to write. So I don't upset the balance in my house, I will post pictures over the weekend. I will also put up some pictures of my current projects.

          About a week ago I sat down to paint a farseer for my Eldar project. As I was working, the lure of things unknown pulled on me. It brought me to one of the most mysterious characters in Warhammer 40k galaxy....... Cypher. Since then, I have been working diligently on one character that reads the fates and makes corrections and one that makes fate happen. Both of these individuals' bios are so deep and immersive and all that I see when I look at these figures is...... Cypher is SHORT!!!!

Out of the Darkness!

    As I climb from the depths that my recent journey has taken me, I come up to a cross roads. "Which way will bring back to the pathways of light?" I say only for myself to hear. Both appear to be the same, dark and seldom traveled paths. I check for tracks in the dirt. Though my woodland skills are not the best, I find faint foot prints leading to the left. So off to the left I go. I walk nearly a mile before I notice it. The shadows draw near. Before I can even start to run, that awful noise assaults my senses. My mind echoes the shriek that my ears are deaf to. The cacophony brings me to my knees instantly, holding my ears to block it out. My vision starts to blur. The pain is unbearable, then instantly gone. As my vision clears, I look up to see what at first I think to be ghosts.

 Suddenly, I wish it were specters to torture my soul. What I found was much worse, they were Howling Banshees. These warriors are trained for the quick, silent death. The leader was wielding a staff with blades on either end. The blades crackle with some ancient power that only the Eldar understand. She motions me to my feet and leads me further down the path. My thoughts leading me in all directions. Should I run? Should I try to overtake them? All I need is one of those swords. Unfortunately, they seem to be one step ahead of me at all times. So on I walk.

They lead me down the path further and further. It seems to go on for days. The seemingly simple animal trail widens to streets then to avenues with flowing gardens. They march me straight up to a large building. It seems like the road was only meant to go to this particular building.The banshees stop as if some invisible force would not let them cross. So, I climb the steps leading to the grand entryway of the structure. The building is old, but very well kept. The steps are flanked by large statues holding their alien weapons as if they were still at war. As I reach the top step, all of the statues come to life to block my egress. I'm not sure which is worse: the living warriors moving like ghosts or long dead Eldar trapped in a machine just to make further war. Well, no where to go but in.
     Before I can walk into this manor that time seems to have forgotten, a figure emerges from the depths. The being is wrapped in loosely flowing robes. He says nothing, just puts his left hand on my forehead. Suddenly, colors and visions jump and dance in my mind. When everything comes together, I see before me more of these automatons and walkers much larger than them. I see heavily armored beings teleporting around and unleashing their own brand of death. I see warriors with shuriken launching guns. Finally, I see this figure and I know what I see. I see the future. The Eldar will soon go to war. It is my job to get them there. Then everything goes dark on me.
   When next I open my eyes, I am at the crossroads. Instead of the dark pathways that I have been traveling, the sun is shining. My way is clear. "Follow me!" I announce, only suspecting someone was listening.

From even darker places

            Good Evening. While my thoughts are in dark places, I wanted to touch on a grim subject. Truly darker than the grim dark of 40k. Darker than the eternal struggles of Warhammer fantasy. What do you do when the games goes to a bad spot? Let's say you are playing a game with one of your buddies. This is your typical t, beer ( or soda for you under age gamers ) and pretzels, Friday night game. Your dice turn to a bad place, or one perfectly placed ordinance shot wipes out your "killer" unit. What do you do? Your options could include to rage quit. We all have seen this at one point or another. The yelling, red faced, miniature or dice throwing that rears his ugly head when things go terribly wrong. You can laugh about it, but we have, all of us, have seen this creature. Nobody wants to, but this abomination has more sightings than  U.F.O.s  in Nevada. This situation is BAD! This is a horrible situation. The worst part of this is when you are in a tournament of 60 or 100 or even more people. In a room full of people, where everyone has their eye on the first place prize. There is a lot of tension and it is easier to lose your cool.

   How do we diffuse this situation? Here are a couple ways to stop a bad time before it starts. There, of course, is two sides to this story. The first is the carrier's side. This spawn is usually seeded days before the game. Whether your job sucks or your better half didn't want you to to be out or a host of other problems gnawing at you. Put it away, when you get your army on the table. Next is "Bad Dice." Everyone has been a victim. Remember, if it was for the randomness of the dice, we would be able to put the models on the table & declare a winner. That's no fun. Then there is the tragic deployment, or worse yet, the "I forgot to move/ shoot that unit" otherwise known as the "Dumb Ass Move." The only thing to do is get past it. Find a new way to use that unit for the rest of the match, because the worst part of this is you will most likely lose the game over beating yourself up. Not the bad move.

     Now for the awkward side of this. The opponent. Your part in this equation could be absolutely nothing. I don't need to say this, but just be friendly. If the person across from you is starting to have the tell tale tremors, slow down, make sure they understand what is going on. Make sure you are not, purposely or subconsciously, gloating. Ask them what is bothering them. If it is a friendly game, maybe, start over. Offer them a drink. Remember, soda for those underage. That might be just enough for them to collect themselves, or make you seem like less of an ass. Always, I mean always, if things get tough. take a break. Engage them on something other than the game.

     I hope these tips help. Remember this is a social game. If we are not all having fun, Is it really worth putting all the money into it that we do. Let's all have fun. Good night for now.