I like Orks!

 Orks are cool. I tried to start an Ork army about eight times over the years, but I could never get on with the models for the Boyz. But the new models have changed that. So here are some Orks!

Iron Within, Iron Without

I feel a degree of sympathy for Perturabo. He strikes me as the guy who sticks his hand up in a meeting to point out the catastrophic flaw in management's latest scheme, gets shouted down, and is then expected to clean up the inevitable mess. 

I wasn't going to paint an Iron Warriors army. But I had loads of Chaos Marines knocking about. It struck me that the Iron Warriors colour scheme would be quite easy and satisfying.

I decided not to bother with black shoulder pads. On a test model, I found that they actually detracted.

Sometimes, it's good to just settle on a scheme that allows you to get a nice result quickly!

High Elves, plans, plots, schemes and me getting my hands stuck together

 Right! So, I've had some very kind messages and a comment asking where I went. Truth is, all the stuff with my family really knocked me silly. I had to step away properly for a bit. I took the time to learn some new stuff as well - I've been working on my terrain building. One of the things I learned was that water clear resin sticks like a limpet: I got that shit on my hands and literally had to keep washing my hands for the rest of the day!

Oh! Quick shout out to Square Hammer for motivating me to get back into things again!

Now, my original Age of Rebuilding writing schedule got completely blown out of the water, and this wasn't helped by the fact I decided I had to do something different than what I'd been working on when my father died. But I've not quit. I'm working on a new piece, which I admit has got a bit out of hands, but I'm getting there. 

So, let's talk about High Elves! Like a lot of 4th edition kids, I started with High Elves and Orcs. The former have always been special to me. 

These are the multipart spearmen, and I recently painted this unit. For a long time, I thought these models were outdated, until suddenly one day I realised that it didn't matter. Yes, the hands are a bit big, but I like them anyway. They come from a time when Warhammer Fantasy was at its apex (well, arguably its first apex, since it nows exists as a purely community porject, which is fairly awesome).

What I will say is that the newer paint ranges make painting High Elves a lot easier. Corax White is more or less my saviour at this point. 

I was also pretty pleased with the bass. They're a base-ready mix from a company called Geek Gaming Scencics. 

It's nice to be back. 

Building the Mystic Isle

 Right, I'm back, more or less. My father's funeral went well... even if my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer only days later. My blog output might be even more spotty than usual!

Anyway, on to business. I've always loved the idea of Ulthuan, this mystical pseudo-Atlantis of soft focus, slender pines and blue hues. But how to realise it? I've never felt quite confident enough to scratch build elven terrain due to all the perfect lines and wotnot. Luckily, Etsy and Ebay came to my rescue!

Look at these statues! LOOK AT THEM! The detail on them is incredible. I got these from an Etsy seller called Elfhead 3D, who was really nice and quick as well as creating great terrain. I decided to paint them as a cold blue stone. 

Speaking of Elfhead, they also sell this great obelisk. My paintjob isn't quite as solid on this one, but that's me, not the model. 

Last one from Elfhead. I decided that this fallen statue should be overgrown. Indeed, all of these bases use a variety of static grass and model leaf litter.

Now, this one here is from minimonsters.eu. It's a bit differently proportioned, but the texture is probably nicer. They also do a bigger version, which I have, but... erm... it's in a different paint scheme and doesn't fit here. 

So there we are! Ulthuan on the tabletop at a fairly low price!

The greatest achievement in British history

Well... that was bollocks. 

I probably don't need to tell you that 2020 was a bit of a cruddy year. The pandemic was the main problem and the gross ineptitude of many governments in handling it another. The question of whether money or human life is more highly prized was answered as governments desperately encouraged people to endanger their own lives in the name of economic activity. Perhaps more disturbing was the lengths that ordinary people will go to in order to protect their sense of routine or normality: let's not entertain all that guff about freedom, what people were protesting against was a change to their routine. I've been working from home for nine months and recognise that I'm one of the luckier people in all this, more privileged you might say, but I still feel frustrated at people being cavalier with their own lives. 

Perhaps I am most sensitive to this today. I don't want to go into details, but yesterday my mother and I had to take the decision to let my father go after a very short but shockingly escalating series of health crises. I love and respect my father: with the amount of suffering he is in now, and though it seemed unthinkable a month ago, it would be the height of cruelty to keep him technically alive after all he has suffered. The doctors will administer such drugs as they can to keep him in a peaceful and painless state until he slips away. Yet I have reason to be thankful.

The doctors have been absolutely incredible. The greatest achievement in this country's bloody history is the National Health Service, not just for the sheer scale of the accomplishment but for what it says about us at our best. In recent years, the world has seen Britain at its worst: nativist, small, pompous, self-aggrandizing in its delusions. But at our best, we can be noble, generous, and caring. The National Health Service was built on the belief that we only cross the finishing line when the last of us do. The political titan behind the NHS, Nye Bevan himself, once said: 

"No society can legitimately call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of lack of means."

My father will die today, or perhaps tomorrow. He will certainly not live to see his 75th birthday on 21st January. That fills me with sadness. And yet I know that, in the height of a hundred-year pandemic, despite a decade of attacks from the worst government in living memory, they did absolutely everything in the realm of medical knowledge to save him, and when that was impossible to at least make him comfortable. And that fills me with pride. My father does not leave a legacy of unpayable hospital bills, because I and my mother and people I have never met and every British person reading this have already paid those bills. Because the National Health Service represents the very best of what Britain can be, what people, in general, can be. It represents, more than anything else, the human impulse to help others. It represents our belief, despite all of our failings, that nobody should suffer without help. Our belief that money is not more important than human life. 

The NHS was built to make a better world after the fall of fascism in the twentieth century. Now, as it always does in the end, fascism has slithered back out of its cesspits and stalks abroad, warping minds and hearts. But I do not believe it will triumph in the end. Because, for all of our stupidity and self-humiliation of the last few years, the British people still love their NHS. No serious politician will ever say it should be scrapped in public. I believe this is because no matter how much you scare and confuse people into cruel and foolish decisions, at their heart people are still decent, people still believe in supporting each other. These are dark times. But the spirit of the NHS still burns strong. 

Nye Bevan would proud of that spirit. So would my father. I know I am. 

Enter the Kingmaker

 

What can possibly make a civil war between three factions of the most untrustworthy race in the entire world any worse?

An arms dealer, maybe. 

Read a bit about this shifty character.

A saga begins

 

The forces of Chaos took a colossal beating at the end of the dark years - even greater than that which the Empire suffered. The tribes of the north find that the world has changed, bringing new problems... and new chances for glory. That is, assuming that there isn't someone even meaner and more brutal than them on the horizon...

Gather round the fire for the saga.